Dangerously in Love
by Minka
Summary: Helm’s Deep Dark AU. When wounded at Parth Galen, Legolas receives his first look at how frail his immortality really is, and when surrounded by the dying Rohan men, loses his edge. With the battle drawing near, can Aragorn keep him safe? A/L *Complete*
1. A Cruel Twist of Fate

Authors notes: Yet another story! *Un-enthusiastically* go me! 

__

They are everywhere! 

I can't escape _Them!_

There is no hope left for me!

I hear _Them_ surrounding me.

__

They will strike soon, I can feel it.

And when _They_ come,

When _They_ come I will be helpless.

I will not be able to defend myself.

__

They are here.

__

They are trying to turn me.

Trying to make me one of _Them_.

I must not surrender.

Must never give in.

But the temptation is too great, 

I must give in!

I must become like _Them_.

I must become…a slash writer!

Lol, ok, sorry about that. I'm in a weird mood so please don't take it too seriously!? 

Ok, this will be SLASH! (Aragorn/Legolas) So if you don't like that kinda stuff then – well, we have something in common! Lol, I only really did this due to requests and so I can say, 'hey, I did a slash story!' Um, this is also my first attempt at romance – well there was 'It's not my Fault!' but that is not really romantic – I mean Legolas spends most his time running away from Aragorn and calling him a petty/disgusting mortal! So that can't be classified in the romance category. So anyway, let me know what you think (no real slash this chapter and maybe not for one or two to come) but let me know anyway. By the way…I hate Aragorn so let me know if I make if out to be an asshole! I try to keep my feelings out of my writing so please let me know if I screw up in that fact! =^_^=

Disclaimer: I, Minka Greenleaf have gained control of the entire world. I dominate/own it and all it's beings and they all do my bidding! Hahahahahahahaha-ouch *hundreds of millions of people hit Minka over the head* ok, ok. I OWN NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!! *Tuns to the people* Can I at least own Upper Egypt? 

People: NO!!!!!

Minka: dayum!

*******

Dangerously in Love.

Part One.

A Cruel Twist of Fate.

*****

"Get out of my way, Aragorn!" Legolas yelled while trying to push past the man blocking the doorway. Reacting to the tone of his voice, Aragorn looked a bit hurt, and Legolas automatically regretted his anger. But the man was infuriating him, driving him to madness with his over-protectiveness, and the Elf had had more then enough of it.  
  
The two had been bickering so much so that Gimli and Éomer had quietly slipped out of the room, completely unnoticed by either of the two. The Dwarf and Man now stood on the rampart of Helm's Deep, looking out over the land that was being swallowed by the approaching darkness. Both knew that soon the armies of Orc and Uruk-hai would swoop down upon them, and the last thing they needed was tension between their comrades.   
  
"So, Master Gimli, how did this spat come into being?" Éomer questioned the short being beside him. The Man harbored no solid opinions about the Dwarf, but the ones he did tended to sway into dislike. But still, he was someone to talk to and one of their own now, even after their dispute about the Lady of the Woods.   
  
Gimli scoffed at the Man's question. "Who knows," he replied. "I know not the workings of their minds, but I do believe that it is based upon the Elf's wound."  
  
"Legolas is wounded?" Éomer asked. This was new information to him, and he found it slightly disconcerting. The fact that Legolas was wounded and neither he nor anyone else had noticed haunted him. He had never known an Elf, but he did not think that they would be so good at hiding their emotions or feelings. Indeed that was what the Prince of Mirkwood had done and it had worked well in the Elf's favor.   
  
"Aye, he was. And pretty badly by the looks of it," Gimli confirmed, "though he would never let on. That Elven pride is a strong thing, but Aragorn knows how much it grieves him, and I believe that is the cause of their row." Gimli stopped and looked out over the carvings of stone that shaped the very structure beneath him. They were fine and detailed, especially for carvings crafted by Men. He ran a calloused finger over the top of the railing and the worn feel reminded him of his home. He started to think back to his people, to his beautiful home carved of stone but Éomer cut into his thoughts.  
  
"How did it happen?" he continued his questioning. "How is it that an Elf good enough to be chosen to go on such a quest was wounded?"  
  
At first Gimli didn't like his tone, feeling that he aimed to insult his new found close friend, but with a scowl he quickly chose his words, words that could bite into the Man standing next to him if he had meant Legolas insult, but also words that would pass if he had not. "The same way as Boromir, a _man_ rendered good enough, fell to the power of the ring and to his death. With a cruel twist of fate." He studied the Man's face, and when he saw no glint of hatred, he knew that he had slightly overreacted. "It happened back when the fellowship was broken," he offered as a sign of repent for his words. "Legolas and I were under heavy fire from the attacking Orcs and a well aimed arrow came his way. Fortunately, being an Elf, he was able to dodge it to some extent, but not fully. It was aimed at his heart and he turned to avoid its bite, but it skimmed deeply across his shoulder blade and would have continued to his other side if it were not for his quiver. It became embedded there, thankfully causing him no more injury."  
  
"Ah, and where was Aragorn at this time?"   
  
Gimli hesitated for a moment. Why did he want to know all this and what value was it to him?  
  
Éomer saw the look of doubt on Gimli's face and informed him that he only wished to understand their actions against the Dark Powers more thoroughly. He also felt that this was a vital fact: that the Elf carried on despite his injuries.  
  
"Aragorn was attempting to aid Boromir at the time, if I recall correctly. I do remember the fact that Legolas had tried to hide his wound from the ranger as well, telling me that we need not worry Aragorn with such unnecessary things. But the ranger knew straight away. He looked at the Elf, and knew that something was wrong, and would not let us leave until Legolas had confessed to him what ailed him."  
  
"Why would he do such a thing?" By this time Éomer was completely confused and could not even begin to fathom the reactions of the Elven prince.  
  
"I do not know," was all Gimli could offer in response.  
  
*****  
  
"Aragorn, just get out of my way," Legolas almost pleaded. He was in no mood to carry on with this ongoing fight with the man, but if need be he would. He would not let the ranger tell him what to do.  
  
"Let me look at your wound and I will." Aragorn reasoned with Legolas. He was growing more and more concerned for his friend with each passing hour. Legolas, always so radiant, almost to the point of glowing under the night sky, was now a deathly white colour, paler then he had ever been. His face constantly showed signs of pain, and his movements were slow and lethargic. But the most frightening and abnormal thing was the slight, darkening rings under his eyes. The Elf had not slept in days, as far as Aragorn knew, and his fatigue was clearly visible. Granted that Elves have a much higher endurance level than even the greatest of men, Aragorn knew that Legolas was well beyond his limits. _He looks frail_, he mused, _so very frail._  
  
While he tried not to admit it to himself, Aragorn had always held Legolas in his heart. From the first time they met, he was taken aback by Legolas' grace and, even, beauty. Aragorn had never felt so strongly about anyone before , especially a male, and it soon dawned on him that he did in fact love Legolas. He always had, and probably always would.   
  
When Aragorn had first left the Elf's company, he thought that his feelings would slowly die down with time and space. But oh, how he was wrong. Time and space only added to his desire for the being, and even when he had met the Lady Arwen, the memory of the blond beauty stayed strong in his mind and heart. The day Legolas was chosen by Elrond to accompany the fellowship as a representative of the Elves, his heart both broke and sang. The thought of being able to spend every hour of the day with Legolas was a wonderful thought, but darker concepts clouded over the good. What if Legolas were hurt? What if he was killed in battle, or taken by the Orcs? Aragorn knew he would never be able to deal with either of these factors, the latter two the most, and he was convinced that he would die if Legolas left him.  
  
So when Aragorn had found that Legolas had in fact been wounded, he was unable to think rationally. He knew that Legolas had tried to hide his wound, but he could see the pain in his face as clear as day. That lead to problems, for all he wanted to do was help, to aid his friend, but Legolas wanted none of it.   
  
The Elf became withdrawn, suffering in spirit as well as body. Aragorn knew that Legolas was young for an Elf, and this was his first major injury at the hands of a fatal enemy. It had forced the Elven archer to accept the fact that, while he may be immortal, he did have limits and even an Elf could be wounded or killed. But Aragorn could not grasp the concept of why Legolas was so distant, and why he refused his help.  
  
"I'm fine, Aragorn. I'll see to it myself if you would just move out of my way." Legolas' clear yet tired voice intercepted Aragorn's thoughts, and a sigh escaped the human's his lips at Legolas' words.  
  
"Legolas, my dear Elf, have you forgotten that the wound lies on your back? You can not possibly clean it yourself." Aragorn said, trying to lighten the mood, but he had managed to do just the opposite.   
  
"No, Aragorn, I have not forgotten. How could I when you constantly remind me of it?" the Elf shot back with a fiery tongue. "And for the last time, I am fine and do not need your help! Now let me pass!" His raised voice bounced off the walls and, as he tried to push past Aragorn again, the ranger grasped him in his arms. "Let me go!" Legolas said while avoiding eye contact.  
  
Aragorn tried desperately to get Legolas to look at him, but it didn't work. The Elf just struggled in his grasp. The ranger let out a sigh, and, while not letting go of the Elf, he spoke in a soft and calm tone. "Legolas, you are not well. Look at me Legolas!" When the Elf made no attempt to do as he asked, he reached over and lifted his face. God he is beautiful, thought the Ranger. Looking into Legolas' ice blue eyes, he continued to speak in a soft and soothing voice, trying to calm the obviously annoyed Elf. "Legolas, I just want to help you. Why won't you let me help you?"   
  
"Because whenever you try to help me, you only succeed in treating me like a child. I am not a child, Aragorn!" Legolas told the Ranger insistently while struggling with the Man's tight grip.  
  
Legolas didn't know what to say. He wanted Aragorns' help, but even the Ranger could not aid him. No Man could. There was no way Aragorn could understand what was happening to him. For the first time in his life, he was faced with the harsh reality that he was just as vulnerable, if not more, than any human. That one wrong choice, one wrong turn, and his immortality would mean nothing. He would die just like any mortal being. He would pass into the next world, and there would be nothing that could be done about it. Of course, he had been told such from an early age, but it was not until something so close to the end had occurred that he felt the full and dramatic impact of this truth.   
  
It had hit him hard, and being the first major wound he had ever suffered made it even worse. He was far from home and surrounded by races of which he had no comprehension. To him, the Men seemed blind; unable to see what was sneaking up on them, unable to sense what hung heavily in the air. And Gimli, well Gimli was a mystery. At first Legolas hated him, and he knew the Dwarf reciprocated the feeling. Their races held a fiery hate. Legolas' father's actions towards Glóin over sixty years ago made it worse.  
  
But the night in Lothlórien changed all. That night, Gimli had come across him in a secluded clearing and interrupted his thoughts. Looking back on it, Legolas was overjoyed that none of the Fellowship was there to hear what they said to each other, that no one heard the words that were shouted for the sole purpose to wounding the other's pride. They argued long into the night and into the early hours of the morning, until tears glistened in both their eyes and they had left no harsh words unspoken. And so it was that they sat there in silence, just looking at each other, trying to get into each other's mind. It was Gimli that broke the silence first, stating that they where a lot alike. When Legolas questioned him on that, he replied with, "You are an Elf. Except for here and now, you will not be in the company of any of your kind. I am a Dwarf suffering the same fate. Aragorn and Boromir have each other and the Hobbits are together. Yet here we are, alone and firing insults."   
  
After that, a lot was discussed between the two, and with a little patience, they learned to put their differences aside and focus on the attributes that they shared. But still, he could not understand what Legolas was going through. No one could. Not until he was with his own people. Not until he was home.   
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice sounded desperate and pleading, "Legolas, can you hear me?" Legolas shook his head to clear it of the thoughts that plagued it. "Legolas?" the concern was strong in Aragorn.  
  
"I can hear you, Aragorn. I just - I..." without any warning Legolas swayed in Aragorn's arms. The Man easily caught him, and in one swift movement, scooped the Elf into his arms by slipping his left arm under Legolas' knees. Legolas' weight scared the man. He knew the Elf to be light, like all Elves for that matter, but Legolas barely weighed a thing.  
  
"Legolas?" he asked, but received no reply as he carried him to a makeshift bed in the corner of the small room. As he gently lay him down, his hand brushed against something wet on Legolas' back. When he slipped his hand  
out from under the Elfs' body he saw it red with blood. Panicking slightly, he rolled Legolas over to see his back soaked in blood, obviously his wound had reopened with the Elf's feeble struggling with the Man in the doorway.  
  
Guilt played its toll on his mind as he lifted the bloodstained shirt off the Elven archer to examine the wound. At what he saw there, there was no stopping the horrified gasp that escaped his lips.  
  
*******  
  
Tbc...

Well, there you all go! I hope you liked this at least a little!

Oh, hey! Is anyone picking up on a pattern here? All my stories have Legolas suffering in some way…*ponders this for a while*…I think I need counciling! Lol! Nah, Legolas cruelty is fun! Fun fun fun fun fun!!!!

Ok, well please review…you know, that little button down there that says 'submit review'? Click on that! Thankyou!

Minka Greenleaf…fear me for I now dabble in slash! Lol


	2. Healing

Fear me, for I have updated! Ok, I was bored and sick of crappy Criminal profiling (law class assignment) so I decided to do this. It is very short (compared to most of my chapters) and, well, boring as hell, but it was needed (ok, not really!) but still, it acts as a branch between the last chapter and the one to come – which will be more exciting, and then (hopefully) the chapter after that will be the start of a long, detailed and bloody battle!  
  
Ok, hope this doesn't bore you too much.  
  
*****  
  
Dangerously in love  
  
Part two  
  
Healing.  
  
*****  
  
After quickly removing the bandage that covered the wound, now rendered useless as it was soaked through with the Elf's blood, Aragorn set about to inspect it closer.  
  
The flesh was inflamed and a bright red in colour. Fresh blood seeped from the long slice that stood out against his pale back and dripped down, creating intricate patterns of crisscrossed glistering crimson. But the thing that brought a gasp to the ranger's lips was the yellowish-green that was just inside the wound itself.  
  
The dark rings under the Elf's eyes, the way his movements seems to be slowed and the constant pain that was evident on his face. The tell tale signs of poisoning. Aragorn knew them well and mentally slapped himself for not thinking of it earlier while he placed the Elf on his side, facing the man.  
  
Aragorn gently pressed his hand to his friend's forehead, and almost pulled away when he felt the heat radiating from it. Slowly trailing his hand down a pale cheek, he again found only heat and sweat.  
  
Even in this state, Aragorn could not help but notice the beauty of the Elven prince lying before him, and subconsciously he traced Legolas's thin lips with his thumb, mapping every detail with his hands and fingers.  
  
Legolas's hair was spilt over the sorry excuse for a pillow like the rays of the sun, forming a sort of halo around his pale face. His lips were slightly parted as he drew in staggered breaths and with every breath he released, his face seemed to noticeable relax a little, until the next gasp of air was needed. It was this and only this action that betrayed how much pain the Elf truly was in, and it was this look of agony that once again forced Aragorn into action.  
  
Aragorn had no way of knowing if Legolas himself had known the full extensity of his plight, or if he had been truly unawares himself. But for some reason, Aragorn had the feeling that Legolas had known all along and that was why the Elf would not permit him to look at his wound.  
  
"Curse you and your pride, Legolas!" Aragorn hissed through clenched teeth as he hurried to the other side of the room to claim his pack for healing herbs. "One day it will get you into some serious trouble, my dear friend." Aragorn didn't know when he had first started to talk to himself, but he guessed it was sometime near Legolas' injury that he had really started to pay attention to the fact.  
  
Rummaging through his pack with hands that shook slightly out of fear for his unconscious friend, he found himself stopping every time he heard Legolas sigh or moan in his sleep. With every breath the Elf let out a slight whimpering noise that sent Aragorn's heart beating faster and faster, and every time with out fail, he looked up to check on the prince.  
  
After finally feeling what he was looking for at the very bottom of the filled pack, the ranger gripped the leather bag tightly and pulled it up, spilling all the other contents on to the floor around him. With a sigh that showed him his idiocy at the fact that he could have just turned it upside down to begin with, Aragorn once again went to the Elf's side.  
  
Rolling Legolas over as best as he could so not to cause the Elf too much more pain, he grabbed a small mortar fashioned out of wood to mix the herbs in. Looking at the bowl, he recognized it as the one Legolas himself had made for him when the Elven prince was at Rivendell awaiting Aragorn's return from the lands of the east many years ago. Aragorn had treasured that bowl, it had well smoothed sides with a few leaves carved into the rim of decoration. He had used it many a time, in both healing himself and others, but none more than Legolas himself.  
  
Sighing, he pulled his dagger from his belt and pulled out of the leather pouch a small drawstring bag from which he cut three sprigs of Catnip to help control the Elf's fever and chills. Mixing that with a little Chicory, Mullein leaves and the sap from some crushed Jewelweed, Aragorn started to grind it together using a pestle that Legolas has also made. As the mixture slowly started to be made fine, Aragorn added a few drops of water and continued to stir, all the while growing more impatient to help his friend.  
  
Finally a cool pale green and waxy paste was formed in the mortar and Aragorn looked in his leather herb bag once again. Pulling out a black silk pouch that was tied up with numerous ties, he quickly started to undo them. Carefully pulling out a small rot of May Apple, he took that and the mortar to Legolas's side.  
  
Taking his dagger and splitting the May Apple, he slowly dripped the poison into the wound while holding Legolas down with the other hand. Just as expected, the Elf started to thrash underneath him, small cries of pain pushing their way out of his throat as his arms subconsciously reached for his back. Aragorn threw as much weight on to the Elf as he dared, not wishing to hurt him but enough to keep him from clawing at the poison he was applying.  
  
The desperate struggles of the Elf underneath him made Aragorn's heart ache. He knew all to well how much this would have been hurting Legolas, but it was something that had to be done, and this was the best way to burn the poison out of the wound.  
  
The laws of healing always fascinated Aragorn, the idea of using a poison to burn out another was prepositions, but it was the way things were, and after all, he had learned from the best.  
  
Slowly the Elf stopped bucking and his cries subsided. A quick check of Legolas's pulse revealed that he was ok, and that his heart had settled down to some extent and a sigh of relief escaped Aragorn. Things were finally looking up for his dear friend.  
  
The ranger then cut a small piece of his tunic – for lack of better cloth, and washed the wound, making sure to get rid of all of the May Apple poison. It was after all a thinner liquid then that of what an Orc uses to coat its arrows thus making it easier to remove if seen to right away.  
  
Aragorn then took the waxy paste and spread it over his hands, then gently applied it to the wound. Reluctantly he left Legolas again to grab yet another little pouch from his bag, and opened it to reveal the fine floss of dried Thistle. The strange texture of the spider-web like threads made the perfect substance to pull the wound closed and to stop the bleeding. While placing it over the torn flesh Aragorn muttered the words of the oldest race of healers, the ones long since gone from this world; "Thistledown across thee, now comfort, starch, and close thee. Sic esse Salubris."  
  
Praying to Vala that it would work, Aragorn slowly and gently started to bind up the wounded area, before pulling a blanket over the sleeping form.  
  
Aragorn looked around him. Nothing, there was nothing more to do, nothing else he could do in order to aid his wounded companion. All he could do was be there and, after a moments thought he lay down next to the sleeping Elf. Getting a blanket within reach, he gently took Legolas into his arms and pulled the blanket over both of them.  
  
Sleep didn't come to him, just as he knew it wouldn't, so he passed the time looking into the hollow eyes of the blond prince in his arms. While they were slightly glazed over, they were indubitably the most mesmerizing eyes he had ever seen. The way they showed exactly what he was feeling, what was racing through his mind.  
  
Legolas always wore a stern and impenetrable mask of impassiveness. It was the result of years of being in the publics eye, for not being able to show any emotions, and yet, the more Aragorn learned about Legolas, the more he could easily see the prince's soul in the Elf's eyes.  
  
Legolas, as if on cue, shivered from what Aragorn knew was the aftereffects of the burning of the poison. The man instinctively pulled Legolas closer to him, holding him tighter while being careful not to come in contact with his wound.  
  
With the small amount of movement, Legolas felt himself getting pulled from the deep sleep that he had unwillingly fallen into. Slowly, he blinked his eyes clear and looked up, straight into the watchful eyes of Aragorn.  
  
*****  
  
Tbc…  
  
Sorry it was so short, but as I said on my bio page, my muse Legolas has decided to leave for a while, and I am very preoccupied, but I don't know, guess I just wanted to write something, so I did this. Hope you all liked it and please review. Next chapter will be longer and see more of Gimli and Éomer, as well as another big confrontation between Legolas and Aragorn with surprising outcomes.  
  
The bit about the herbs was all taken from a book that I own and love: "The Crone's Book of Charms and Spells." The herbs are real and do work – as far as my knowledge goes, I mean face it, I haven't yet had to burn poison out of someone before, but the others do. The small incantation is a mix an invocation for the actual Thistle and a small passage in Latin for healing.  
  
Anyway, please review and tell me what you all think.  
  
Minka Rain Greenleaf 


	3. Rooms and Windows

Ok, so I had just finished writing the next part of The Blood of Revenge and thought I would do another chapter to a story and this one came to mind. I know I haven't updated in ages, but here it is and no, the battle has not started yet - I got slightly sidetracked. Anyway, I was reading over what I had written, when I realised that this story has no point whatsoever! I mean, it is Helm's Deep, which while on FanFiction.net is rather original, it is not real "Wow, that is so original." Do you get what I am saying? No? well then, that is probably for the best then! So anyway, I decided to change a few things, a little more of a twist has come in with Legolas and Aragorn is - well, kinda just confused and scared for the Elf. I think! Lol, pretty sad when you do not know what your own characters are doing in a story huh? I blame my mused.  
  
Legolas: there she is, blaming us again, Aragorn. We should go on strike. Minka: you already did a few weeks ago and you remember what I made you do cause of it. Aragorn: *clamping a hand over Legolas' mouth* He spoke hastily and without justification and he is sorry! *Legolas nodes his agreement* Minka: good, now on with the story!  
  
*****  
  
Rooms and Windows.  
  
*****  
  
Looking up to the eyes that held his own, Legolas could easily see the shock that flashed in Aragorn's dark orbs. The Elf did not know whether he should be angry with Aragorn or not, and that hesitation alone stopped him from shouting at the man instantly.  
  
Aragorn knew not what to do as the one who held his heart woke in his arms, aware of his admiring gaze and tight embrace. He braced himself for the yelling and insults that he knew would come from the mouth that he had only moments before traced and decided was the most desirable in all Middle- Earth. He could hardly blame him, for Aragorn would be the first to admit that Legolas did not need anyone's help, especially his, but at the same time, Aragorn wished that Legolas would just let his defenses down - at least around him.  
  
Waiting and counting down the seconds till Legolas' calm broke, Aragorn did not expect what was to happen next.  
  
Legolas glared at the man that held him while thinking of all the nasty things that he would like to say to the ranger and future King. Yet before he could open his mouth to speak, a strong stabbing pain overcame his back and he felt as if he were on fire; that flames radiated and licked up the side of his back, slowly consuming him.  
  
Gasping, he automatically pushed himself further into Aragorn's arms and buried his head in the man's toned chest, seeking the comfort and safety that he knew Aragorn would offer him. A small gasp forced its way through his unwilling lips, which was closely followed by a soft sob as the pain doubled.  
  
Aragorn instantly tightened his grip on the thin Elf and cradled Legolas' head against his chest. "What is wrong, my friend?" he asked, keeping his voice as level as he could.  
  
"Burns." was all Legolas managed to chock out while gripping the cloth of Aragorn's tunic tightly.  
  
The man ran his fingers gently through Legolas' silky, blond hair and attempted to sooth him as much as possible. "I know," he said tenderly, "'tis the affect of the May Apple. It will pass soon, I promise."  
  
"May Apple?" Legolas half-shrieked, half-sobbed in pain. What was the human using May Apple on him for?  
  
"'Twas the only way to burn the poison off, Legolas do not distress." Aragorn himself was now worried by the trembling of the Elf in his arms, and he started to fear that he had done something wrong. It had seemed the only way to rid the wound of the poison at the time, but he had not ever had this reaction to the treatment, and neither had anyone he had ever used it upon.  
  
Legolas continued to hold to Aragorn as if he were something that could ease the pain and for yet another time that night, Aragorn felt useless. Gently stroking the Elf's hair he cast his mind to his bag of herbs that sat still spread out on the floor, and tried to recall what he had in there. Catnip, Anise, Basil, Bayberry, Goatsbeard, Chicory, Mullein leaves, Borage, Jewelweed, May Apple and many more insignificant herbs. Cursing himself and his uselessness at even packing a better supply, he continued to whisper into Legolas' ear, trying to comfort him as much as possible.  
  
When Legolas was calm enough for Aragorn to let him go, the ranger quickly moved to his pack and pulled out some more Catnip and a little Borage. All the while Legolas studied him with a pain riddled face and for the first time in days, Aragorn could see the trust that Legolas once had for him clearly.  
  
Smiling reassuringly at the blond Elf, Aragorn made his way back to the bed and sat next to the still shaking archer. Splitting the herbs and finely chopping their leaves, he placed them into a cut of water that he had also brought over with him. Mixing it together and allowing it to sit and the saps to mix with the fluid, he placed a hand on Legolas' should in a silent attempt to tell him that it would be all right.  
  
Once the brew was thoroughly mixed, he slipped a hand under the Elf's back and helped him into a sitting position and glad that Legolas made no move to shove him away. Pulling Legolas to him slightly, Aragorn placed a hand around the slim waist and the other guided the cup to Legolas' mouth.  
  
Legolas did not even hesitate in taking the brew and drained the glass quicker than Aragorn could have imagined. Laying the Elf back down on the bed, he brushed a few strands of hair away and smiled at the worn looking figure yet again.  
  
"It will ease the pain in no time," he told him while placing the herbs back in his bag. He could feel Legolas' gaze on him and when he finally looked up, he saw the Elf half on the verge of tears.  
  
Aragorns'' brow creased in concern as he quickly made his way back over to the make shift bad and sat down. Before he could even reach for the Elf, he found Legolas' head in his lap and the prince openly crying.  
  
"What is wrong, Legolas," he asked while pulling his friend closer, "what troubles you so?" For the longest time no answer came and Aragorn's worry heightened. He had not known many Elves to cry and on the rare occasion that they did it was not over a simple matter. It normally meant something bad and unfixable had occurred or that the Elf was slowly dying of grief.  
  
The thought of Legolas dying was a horrible one that Aragorn was not prepared to even contemplate, and the thought of him dying as a result of grief was an even harder thing to bear. Never had he seen Legolas cry in the sixty or so years that he had known him, and it was something that he quickly decided that he never wanted to see again.  
  
Moving Legolas so the Elf was in his lap and his head pushed to Aragorn's chest, Aragorn tried again to get Legolas to talk. "Legolas, what is wrong. Talk to me!" he demanded and was rewarded with a slight sniff from the still crying Elf.  
  
"I am sorry, Aragorn," was all that Legolas managed to whisper into Aragorn's shirt between sobs.  
  
"Sorry about what, Legolas?" Aragorn questioned, "you have nothing to be sorry for." At this Legolas just hiccuped and continued to sob and cling to Aragorn. The ranger had to try as hard as he could to keep his attention focused on the solemnity of the situation and not to stray into any little thoughts of the Elf that held to him like they were lovers.  
  
"I'm scared, Aragorn, I am actually scared," Legolas sobbed again, catching Aragorn's breath at his words. Legolas scared, sorry, none of it was making sense and that was the thing that worried Aragorn the most. Perchance he was missing something that was vital and he should know.  
  
Before he could question the Elf on it any further, it was as if something had possessed Legolas and he sat up, wiping the tears from his eyes and looking blankly at the wall. His entire face had changed from one ruled by pain and grief to one that was schooled to look every part the prince that he was. His eyes were clear and not one single tear fell anew. Anyone who looked upon him now would easily call Aragorn a lair if he were to claim that he had just broken down and cried, for he was his usual, unreadable self.  
  
Legolas turned back to Aragorn, his cold and uninviting eyes warning all who beheld them to keep their distance, and yet, he smiled - a strange and almost sad smile that broke Aragorn's heart and yet confused him even more.  
  
"Thankyou, Aragorn," he said evenly, not a trace of pain or emotional hurt in his voice, "thankyou for your help but I shall need no more. I will be fine now."  
  
The sentence sounded practiced and rehearsed, as if he had been contriving it in his head all day for this exact moment. Aragorn could not help the frown that came over his face as studied the Elf with curiosity.  
  
"Are you sure?" was all Aragorn could think to say as he continued to watch his friend with unease. Something had effected the Elf so badly that he had broken down and cried in Aragorn's own arms, and now he sort to just push it aside and pretend that nothing had happened. It was absurd.  
  
"Of course I am sure, my friend," Legolas replied. The last two words seemed to hold an underlying meaning that Aragorn could not put his finger on.  
  
Frowning again, or maybe it was just a deeper look of curiosity that came over him, Aragorn was about to ask more on the situation but the door suddenly burst open to reveal a very out of breath Gimli.  
  
"Aragorn.Legolas." he breathed out between breaths, "here.they are.here.the Uruk-hai!" Not even waiting for them to respond, Gimli ran back out the door and down to the next room, obviously to alert all the soldiers of the coming battle.  
  
Spinning to his feet, Aragorn ran to the other side of the room and grabbed his sword. Turing to go and look out the small window, he saw Legolas hurriedly pulling his shirt back on and grabbing his quiver and his twin blade's sheaths.  
  
"What are you doing?" Aragorn asked rather harshly of the Elf, who looked at him with a wide-eyed expression.  
  
"Getting ready," Legolas replied evenly, regarding the man as if he were insane.  
  
Aragorn felt as if the Elf was the insane one and he had every intention of tell Legolas that. "You can not go out there!" he exclaimed as if it were the clearest thing in the world.  
  
Legolas' face was quick to colour a deep red and his eyes narrowed to thin slits, "And why not?" he demanded. He could not believe that Aragorn was acting like this, of course he was going out there and besides, they needed him.  
  
"You are wounded, Legolas," Aragorn reminded him yet again and at the look he received he knew that the Elf did not appreciate it one little bit. "You can not go out there with such a wound."  
  
A slight spark flared in the blue eyes of the archer as he stubbornly glared back at the human in front of him. "I will be fine!" he insisted, "you have had worse and still kept fighting and, so shall I."  
  
"But that is different," Aragorn insisted, not really knowing himself why it was. No, he did know, it was because he loved Legolas that it was different. It would be completely different if the person before him was just an acquaintance or any random soldier in an army that he was to command. But no, Legolas meant more to him than that and that was why it was different, that was why Aragorn wanted him up in the tower with the King of the Mark so he would be safe.  
  
"How?" Legolas half yelled and yet not really knowing why he was doing so, "how is it different, Aragorn? Do I appear that weak to you?"  
  
It was then that it hit Aragorn, why Legolas did not tell him of his wound right away, why he insisted that he did not need help, why he was sorry. Legolas thought that Aragorn thought him weak. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth for but a moment before Legolas' harsh glare wiped it away. Slowly approaching the Elf, Aragorn did the best he could not to laugh out of relief at this newfound information. It was a relief to know that that was all that was troubling the Elf and that it was just a misunderstanding.  
  
"Legolas, I do not think you weak!" he appealed. "On the contra, I know you to be one of the strongest people, both human and Elven alike, that I know. You are far from weak." He hopped that he had gotten his point through to the Elf who was now shaking slightly and it took all his will not to run over and help him back to the bed else he collapse.  
  
Legolas looked as if he were a child that had been told off by his parents as he stood there, shaking slightly and looking in the ranger's eyes. "Then what is it, Aragorn?" he asked quietly, "why am I never good enough? Why do you see me as not skilled enough to go with you?"  
  
That was it, Aragorn could not help it any longer. Moving quickly so the Elf had no time to react, he folded Legolas into his arms and ran his hand down the Elf's hair. "Legolas, you are beyond the skill that we need, and you are better then what we need, but you are hurt and I do not wish to place you in harm's way again so soon." He spoke quietly and calmly, and slowly he could feel Legolas start to relax in his embrace. "That is the only reason that I do not want you to go out there, 'tis not because you lack the skill or experience, 'tis just that I fear for a wounded Elf among legions of Uruk-hai and Orcs. So please, my friend, do not go out there, stay here and guard the doors if you must, but do not put yourself in unnecessary danger just to prove yourself to someone who is already convinced."  
  
"Aragorn, you have no reason to fear for me. I shall be fine," Legolas informed his friend while pulling out of his arms, "Now, help me strap on my quiver."  
  
Aragorn almost growled at how the situation had turned out and knew he had only one last card to play. "Legolas, if you can not get that on by yourself than you are not fit to go out there and use it." He stated bluntly while placing a dagger in his boot. At the frustrated sigh that came from the Elf, Aragorn know that he had found the thing that would keep the one he loved well out of harm's way.  
  
Turning away to grab his Elven cloak, a small, pain filled cry filled the room. Whirling around to see what had happened, the first thing that the ranger saw was Legolas' face twisted in pain, followed by the Elf trying to get the quiver on his back but failing miserably. As an automatic reaction, Aragorn hurried over and help the Elf, strapping it in place before he even noticed how Legolas had played him.  
  
Noticing a sly smile on the Elf's lips, Aragorn started to question him but was cut off by a very pleased sounding, "thankyou," from the Elf.  
  
Realisation hit him and at the same time he was rather impressed with how the Elf had worked the situation into his favor. The ranger had to stop and ask himself if he was really that obsessed that he had not even noticed how the prince had used his power over him to manipulate the predicament so well, and he found that the answer was slightly off-putting.  
  
"Damn you, Legolas," he said only half serious while picking up the prince's bow and handing it to him.  
  
The smile that radiated from the archer's face was enough to make Aragorn glad that he had been pulled into the little game that Legolas had played with his head. "Oh, Aragorn, do not be angry," Legolas almost taunted, "for you should know that short of locking me in this room, nothing could keep me from killing a few Orcs."  
  
At the bantered suggestion, Aragorn's hope picked up slightly as he thought of the best way to lock the Elf in and keep him in. If he acted quick enough, he could half throw Legolas to the other side and then run to the door, lock it and then bar it from the outside. He could then make a few guards stand at the door with strict orders not to let anyone in or out, and if anyone attempted it then they had the right to bind them hand and foot and throw them right back in - only gently.  
  
A voice suddenly cut through his dark thoughts, "Do not even think about it, human!" Legolas warned while glaring at Aragorn. Looking at that pale face, worn looking eyes and determining that the Elf looked rather cadaverous, Aragorn decided that it was at least worth a try, especially if it kept Legolas out safe.  
  
Preparing himself by counting to three, Aragorn smiled softly and turned his back to the Elf, giving the effect that he was going to walk out the door. As he heard Legolas come up behind him, Aragorn suddenly spun around and grabbed him by the waist, throwing the Elf over his shoulder. "Too late," he said in reply to Legolas' warning as he carried him over to the bed.  
  
"Put me down, Aragorn." Legolas was practically screaming in the man's ear and his fists beating against his back. "This is not funny, now stop it!"  
  
"As you wish, my prince," Aragorn told him sugary as he placed the Elf on the bed ere turning and running as fast as he could to the door. He was well aware of the softer footsteps that followed his, but he had too much of a head start for Legolas to catch up to him that quickly. Getting outside and slamming the door shut, he relised that he had only just made it in time as, as soon as the doors were closed, he could hear vicious Elven curses and the pounding of fists and feet on the door.  
  
"Let me out, Aragorn!" an irritated voice yelled form inside and Aragorn openly smiled. In a way it was rather fun, and seeing Legolas so angry and fiery was a rare gift and Aragorn found him even more beautiful when he was. The ranger only wished that it were safe to be around him, let alone face to face with him, when he was like this.  
  
Sliding the outside bolt across the door, Aragorn sighed in relief. As the banging and yelling continued, Aragorn pulled ornamental double bladed axes and flag poles off the walls and threaded them through the handles of the door until not one single other pole could fit. The screams had subsided but the banging still sounded in the small room and Aragorn almost felt regret for what he had done. Almost. At least this way Legolas would be safe and kept out of harm's way and Aragorn would just have to face his anger after the battle.  
  
Walking down the hall he stopped the first three guards that he saw and told them to stand guard over the door and let no one in or out. They seemed slightly suspicious about the whole thing, but did as they were told, not wishing to question someone that their leader and King held in regard.  
  
It took him close to five minutes to get to the open area in front of the gates that all were assembling in. The stone walls supported large torches that burnt in the darkness, sending an eerie glow over the entire fort. Looking up he could see that a storm brewed on the horizon and was closing in on the mountain fortress fast. It would be there in under an hour. Perfect, he thought, why does it always have to rain and storm when there is a large battle at hand?  
  
Pushing all thoughts of such things away as he did the people that kept getting in his way, he finally reached the group of people that he was aiming to. There stood Gimli, Théoden, Éomer and a figure in a dark hood.  
  
"Ah, Aragorn, we have been waiting for you," the hooded man said and Aragorn's mouth dropped open.  
  
"Legolas?" he asked, not wanting to hear the answer.  
  
Gimli looked between the two in confusion. "Of course it is him, Aragorn. Who were you expecting?"  
  
Aragorn could find no words to say and so he settled for standing there, mouth gaping open at the figure that he had only just locked in the room. Thinking back to the three faces of the guards, he made a note not to forget them and if they all survived the battle, he promised himself that those guards would have an unfortunate run in with the pointy end of a sword.  
  
"Come," Éomer cried, "let us stand on the walls and rally the men." A silent agreement passed through the company of five, and they all slowly started to make their way up to the steps to the wall. That was, all but Aragorn, who seemed to have forgotten how to move. It was at the wall that Théoden bide them good luck and said that he would be in the King's tower if he were needed.  
  
As Legolas walked past, he cut in close to the ranger and whispered just loud enough for the human to hear, "Next time, check for windows with joining sills." With that he was gone, off to follow the others to certain death.  
  
Standing there, looking at the space where Legolas had just stood, Aragorn felt a small glimmer of hope inside him die and crumble. Legolas was in no condition to be out fighting an army of Elf hating monsters, no mater what the Elf claimed. Resolving there and then that he would not let the Elf out of his sight of a single moment, he turned on his heels and sped after the other four. Upon reaching the battlements, he placed himself between Éomer and Legolas, with Gimli on the other side of the Elven prince.  
  
*****  
  
Tbc.  
  
Hehehehe, the result of too much coughing and not enough writing in the last couple of weeks. Sorry for all those who would have liked to see Legolas stuck in the room, but if he suggested it he was bound t have a way out.  
  
Next chapter will see the battle of Helm's Deep commence and it will probably run through the next two chapters (hopefully - I also intend to tell the Legolas/Gimli Orc death-o-meter the way I think it should have happened!)  
  
Hope you enjoyed that and like always, please review. Flames will be used to light up Legolas' arrows so he can burn Orcs next chapter.  
  
Minka Rain Greenleaf - she who does shit all for weeks, then types up three things in one day! 


	4. No One's Untouchable, part 1

Ok, I was in one of those homicidal kill-something-or-me moods so I randomly started to write a battle scene, and as it took form, I could see that it was so set in Helm's Deep, and then I remembered this story. And so, that brings us to this.  
  
I was making this a two part ending, but it is now over 28 pages and still not finished, so I am breaking it up into three parts. Umm, the next part is pretty much finished, and the last and concluding one is in the process of being done, so it will not take too long to get them all out (can you tell that I am desperate to get more stories finished? - plus I have a rather entertaining original story about Dwarf Tossing to post up!)  
  
And people, just cause it has been a long time for updating, does not mean that I have abandoned it. I really do try to finish all stories (am still working on the conclusion to The Blood of the Innocent but it is being a bit of a bitch) but sometimes it will just take me awhile.  
  
IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!  
  
For all you Americans out there, I am yet to see the movie - not released for another few days - so please do not tell me anything!!! That also means that this may not be what the movie made Helm's Deep look like, so do not go saying that "that's not how the movie did it!"  
  
ALSO IMPORTANT: due to new ideas, I have changed the story's direction slightly. It is no longer (as I said before) pointless and lacking a 'real' plot, as it has now taken on the form of something along the lines of Shadows Within; Darkness Without. It is going to take a look at how the battle of the Hornburg could have turned out if all of the aforementioned things (Legolas' wound, Aragorn's 'obsession' and the obvious dislike between Legolas and Éomer - first chapter implied) had come into play *REALLY evil laugh*  
  
Last thought: Do you know how hard it is to write a decent fight scene for Gimli?  
  
Ok, so, sit back, relax and let me take you for a nice little ride through blood and carnage.  
  
*****  
  
Dangerously in Love  
  
Chapter Four  
  
No One's Untouchable part 1  
  
*****  
  
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long  
  
And the forests will echo with laughter.  
  
"Stairway to Heaven" Led Zepplin.  
  
*****  
  
Like a tide of black water they came, running forward and towards the high walls of the stronghold whilst being unhindered by the fortified place before them. Rain poured down in vertical sheets, insuring that the fighters of both sides had to watch their feet else they slip to what may prove their end.  
  
Standing upon the wall, the captains of the Deep watched in silence as, with each blinding flash of white light that split the darkened sky, more and more of the enemy was revealed in the flats below the walls. There were thousands of them, an endless parade of dark shapes and glistering spears stretching from one wall of the Dike to the other and reaching far behind, out of the sight of all save the keen eyes of Legolas the Elf. As each flash of light passed through the sky, the beings upon the wall saw more and more of what they were set to face and what blocked them in the Deep from the outside world.  
  
The evils in the valley below were stomping their feet and calling out, proclaiming their might and strength and how that they would crush all that hid within the stronghold before the early morning light flooded the land from the east.  
  
Those on the walls stood uneasily, not from the threats but from the atmosphere and the foretelling of evil that seemed to weigh down the air and bring it heavily upon their shoulders.  
  
None felt the presence more then Legolas the Elf as he stood there, clutching his bow to his chest while his eyes darted from one corner of the valley to the other, attempting to estimate the number of the opposing army between the flashes of light.  
  
Gimli stood tall in spirit, his readiness larger then his size as he gripped his axe. Long had he felt fatigue, but even as the battle approached the constant blood lusting of his axe prevented him to truly feel the weariness that was about them all.  
  
Aragorn, the picture of nobility, stood with his hands resting on the wet ramparts of the wall, Andúril gleaming at his side in the flashing light of the storm. His gaze eagerly pierced the night and looked upon the gathered force and yet, even as he looked, he was more concerned with what and who was at his side, making sure to be the first one to notice if anything was wrong with either of his friends and comrades.  
  
Next to him stood Éomer, another man of nobility in both stature and pose. Sword already in hand, he also scoured the flats beyond with the eyes of a hawk, yet, unlike him comrades, his orbs held the faint glimmer of hopelessness that could prove to be fatal in any fight of substantial value.  
  
Archers lined the walls on either side of the leaders, there bows drawn and their helms down and they were flanked by row after row of waiting swordsmen. More of the wardens stood at the bottom, the line of defense against the gate if it should fall and the chance of the assailing host breaking their lines.  
  
And so waited the congregation that was set to defend the never before defeated stronghold; a legion of humans, a royal Elf and a stout dwarf were all that stood in the way of what would be a damaging blow should they fail.  
  
With no warning, a volley of thick, black shafted arrows speed over the wall, falling upon the waiting lines. The sound of metal hitting stone briefly overrode that of the falling rain only to be drowned out by another crack of thunder. As the light flashed across the sky moments after, the leaders looked to their lines, seeing that some had indeed falling in the assault and yet all had held their ground and stayed to their orders.  
  
As worked out beforehand, they would wait for their opening attack until the other side grew sure of themselves and moved forward. As predicted, within a few moments, the Orcs and men from the Dunland surged forward, weapons brandished high above their heads and cries upon their lips.  
  
With a blast of trumpets, the archers upon the wall took aim, and, at the falling hand of their commander, let their arrows fly. The shafts sailed well in the air, the force of the wind and rain working in their favor as yet another volley was let off, falling countless Orcs and humans below.  
  
The host broke and fell back, put of by the sudden assault from the once quiet walls, and yet, within the minute, they were charging again only to be met with more whistling missiles, driving them back once again.  
  
And thus started the battle of Helm's Deep.  
  
*****  
  
Bending his bow along with the others, Legolas tried to ignore the tearing that he felt at his shoulder blade and back. Not aiming at any being in particular, he let his fingers slack and the arrow speed from its previous position, felling one of the further beasts. Rotating his shoulder once, he sensed Aragorn's eyes on him and immediately stopped, not wanting to cause the human to worry.  
  
Averting his gaze, he turned to Gimli with a small smile on his face. "Master Gimli, I do believe that that is already one for me!"  
  
The dwarf just scoffed at his words while looking out on the crowed flat. "And I shall do better - if you care to make a wager on that?" He still had not looked to the Elf, but his smile was easily seen in the flashes of white light as he contemplated the thought of beating the fabled archer.  
  
"An Elf verses a dwarf," Legolas laughed at the thought in a merry way without the slightest hint of a taunt. "I shall readily except your challenged Mas-" his words where cut short as he ducked a flying arrow, having felt the disturbance that it made upon the air near his head and he was relieved to hear it hit shield and not flesh behind him.  
  
Aragorn cast a worried look over at the Elf, and before Legolas could continue his and Gimli's friendly banter, the human grabbed a hold of his arm and hauled Legolas over to his side, his fear for the prince getting the better of him. Tugging the Elf's arm downwards so that Legolas' ear was to his mouth, he whispered harshly against the point. "Perchance you could stop your talking and keep your mind on the battle at hand! I do not want to have to watch over you as if you were a child, now keep your head in the right place!"  
  
Tugging out of the man's grip, Legolas shot him an angered glance, and keeping his eyes on the human, he pulled another arrow from his quiver and let it fly with speed unlike any that the human archers had ever witnessed before. An Orc fell down below, the Elven arrow sticking from the centre of its throat and the archers that were watching gaped at the Elf who had not even looked at his target to hit it dead centre.  
  
"So Gimli?" Legolas questioned while keeping his eyes locked onto Aragorn's, "what say you about that wager?"  
  
Seeing the tension between the two, Gimli could only half guess at what it was caused from. He had seen throughout the quest, and especially since Legolas had taken his wound, that Aragorn seemed to treat Legolas as someone who needed protecting and not the warrior that he was.  
  
Deciding to stick with his friend on this one, Gimli looked to the Elf and smiled at his back, "as you wish it, Master Elf," he said, "let us see who may win this. But alas, I fear that you have an advantage for now, so I take my leave so I may be the first to the fight if it should come within our walls." With a slight nod, he turned and walked down the stone steps to join the other swordsmen at the bottom near the gate.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Legolas stared Aragorn down until the human finally looked away, face burning in the cool rain. Éomer had long since moved off to rally the men and archers further, leaving only the two quarreling beings atop the walls.  
  
Firing three arrows in rapid succession, Legolas was the first to hear and feel a crashing sound as it reverberated off the walls and through the air. Leaning over the stone balustrade, the Elf let his eyes fall upon the base of the wall and to the sight that was displayed before him.  
  
Putting his anger towards Aragorn aside for the moment, he leaned over and tugged the sleeve of the human's tunic, and once he had his attention, he stretched his arm out, pointing to the danger.  
  
"We have problems!" he exclaimed while he waited for the ranger to register what was happening. Down below, a handful of the Dunland men and Orcs had the trunks of cut trees within their hands, four to a side and were ramming it against the strong, steel enforced gates of the Deep over and over again.  
  
Looking quickly to Legolas, the human tried to resist the urge to tell him to stay here with no prevail. "You stay here, I'll go!" he hissed out at the Elf as Legolas made a move to skirt around him.  
  
"Aragorn?" Legolas half shrieked, "I am not staying here and you have no right to tell me so!" Proving his point, he motioned to a few of the swordsmen that stood nearby to follow him and walked around the ranger, his head held high. Aragorn made a move to grab at his arm again, but Legolas' quick reflexes allowed him to easily move out of the ranger's reach as he kept walking down the steps.  
  
"Is there a way out other then the main gates?" Legolas questioned one of the men behind him.  
  
Nodding his head, the guard pointed at the far wall, "there is a small door to the west. It opens in a crevice between the rocks that can not be easily seen. That is our best chance."  
  
"Then we go through that door and surprise them from the outside." Legolas concluded as the group, followed by an unimpressed Aragorn, hurried across the muddied grounds towards the west and where the door apparently stood.  
  
Another bang reverberated through the Deep making Legolas spin on his heels and face the gate. The wood was bowing and the metal hinges bending under the force of the battering-ram. Looking from the gate to the small door, he quickly ran across the slippery ground and towards Éomer who was standing with Gimli.  
  
"You have to block the gates!" he yelled at them before he was even near. "They will not hold!"  
  
Reaching the small group, he offered a slight bow to Éomer in a sign of respect and then continued his quicken speech. "You must use something to keep the gates from breaking! Rocks, metal, anything, just keep them holding. We," he motioned to the now motionless group that stood near the small door and were looking back on him, "are going out to try and stop them, but we need you to secure them from inside on the chance that we should fail."  
  
Éomer looked from the elf to the gate before sighing and nodding, leaving his pride aside to ensure the people's safety "That is sound advice, Master Elf," Éomer said while nodding his agreement ere calling out for a handful of his men. "Gather all that you can. We must reinforce the gates!" Following after his men, Éomer busily started getting them to move large boulders and planks of wood, lending a hand when the time called for it.  
  
Seeing that they were well under way, Legolas turned and started back towards the others, who were busily arguing with Aragorn over something. The presence of Gimli did not go unnoticed by Legolas as he walked with a brisk pace, and, when shooting the dwarf a questioning gaze, Gimli only replied with, "and you think that I will allow you such a head start on our wager?"  
  
"Dwarves and their stiff necks," Legolas murmured with a smile as the reached the group. "What is happening here?" the Elf questioned at the sound of raised voices. Aragorn turned on him; his face looking like a child's who had been caught doing something that they should not have been while the guard that he had been arguing with smirked at the uneasiness of the ranger.  
  
"Nothing," Aragorn muttered under his breath, wanting to close the subject to the Elf.  
  
"Actually," the guard who had informed Legolas of the door said, "he was telling us to go while you were not here to accompany us!" Aragorn whirled on the guard; his face burning with anger while his eyes said more then words could, forcing the young man to shrink back.  
  
"Enough!" Legolas interrupted. "Aragorn, you are not going to get rid of me so learn to accept that. Do you not all see that we need to stick together on this? We can not afford to let petty arguments break us and our spirits; not when we need each other so much!" Looking right at Aragorn when he said the last lines, Legolas was pleased to see that the human maintained eye contact with him and for once, he did not see the hate that was recently burning within the human's eyes.  
  
Without another word being spoken the company turned and headed towards the door cut into the side of the fort's walls.  
  
Opening the old door, the rusted hinges let out a shrill squeak that was thankfully lost in sounds of the battle and the falling rain. The small group, consisting of Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and five Rohan swordsman, slipped out through the small door to find themselves in a long crevice between the rock face and the side of the Fort's walls.  
  
Moving stealthy along, they each drew their weapons of choice and, as the roar of the opposing side started to get louder as they got closer, gripped their swords and bow till their knuckles turned white.  
  
Just as Legolas was about to lead them around the corner and straight at the men that assailed the gates of Helm's Deep, Aragorn reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back so quickly that they other warriors kept going, a war cry on their lips as they charged at the unsuspecting men.  
  
"What are you doing?" Legolas hissed at the human who still firmly held his arm. Gimli, who had seen Legolas get stopped, had halted also, not wanting to leave his friends at such an important place.  
  
"I just did not want you going first!" Aragorn said truthfully. He had not wanted Legolas rushing around that corner to face the Orcs and what could possibly be death at all, let alone being the first one to go.  
  
Glaring at the man, Legolas pulled his arm free and stepped aside, "well then, my *king*," he spat with disgust, "after you!"  
  
Seeing that Legolas had taken it the wrong way, Aragorn reached out for the Elf to try to prove to him his mistake, but Legolas just stepped aside and shook his head at the human. "Legolas, I did not mean it that way."  
  
"Just go, or shall I?" Legolas said while casting his eyes impatiently to the corner and the sounds of the battle that was on the other side. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Aragorn glared back at the Elf, wondering why Legolas insisted in making everything so difficult, and stared jogging around the bend to join in the fray.  
  
Turning to Legolas, Gimli gave him is best questioning glance which was met with a shrug and the quiet words of, "I do not know, Gimli, I just do not know!" Exchanging small smiles, the two friends hurried to catch up to the others.  
  
Coming around the bend, Legolas automatically let an arrow fly and hit the closest man, his side of the ramming log tipping as he fell to the ground. Letting a further two arrows grace the air with their presence, both his targets fell to the ground, dead before they even hit.  
  
Gimli ran into the thick of the fray and sent his axe into the stomach of one man only to pull it out and spin it to hit another in the kneecap, severing the leg. Moving swiftly for one of his race, he killed a further four within a matter of seconds, the bodies falling about him like leaves in a forest.  
  
Aragorn was in the middle of the fight, letting his anger and frustration out of the evils that dared to challenge him. It felt good, good to get back at the ones that had hurt the Elf of his heart even if it were not them essentially. It was the Orcs' fault that all this had happened; that Legolas had been wounded, that they were fighting and that Legolas was being so goddamn stubborn.  
  
All the while he was thinking this; he was stabbing and slicing quicker and quicker until finally cutting off the Dunland man's head with the last thought on Legolas' stubbiness.  
  
Soon, the group from inside where gaining the upper hand, the Orcs and men alike falling at their mercy. They had lost two of the men that they had taken out with them, but other then that they had taken no other main losses or hurts.  
  
"Come," Aragorn exclaimed while leaning on his sword, "let us see how Éomer and the others go with fixing the gate."  
  
With that said, he turned and lead them off, back in the direction of the small gate that lay hidden in the side of the cliff with Legolas and Gimli taking up the rear. As they passed, none noticed the Orcs that had lain with the dead, waiting for their chance to surprise the company as they slowly and silently stood to their feet, creeping up on the dwarf and Elf.  
  
The first warning of trouble came to Legolas as, being slightly ahead of Gimli, he heard his friend cry out in what seemed alarm and pain. Whirling around and pulling one of his daggers free, the Elf saw five Orcs on their feet, one with its sword skillfully placed through the right side of the joints of Gimli's breastplate and his back plate.  
  
The dwarf looked terribly pale and from where Legolas stood, he could see that the blade had been shoved far into the smaller being. Gulping and pulling his other blade free, the prince took a step forward and locked eyes with the first of the Orc's, showing that he would battle him.  
  
The beast moved forward as Legolas spun his blades, preparing for the fight at hand. Ducking the Orc's first strike, the Elf came in underneath its sword and defenses and pushed both bow-knifes up into its stomach. Sidestepping the falling beast, Legolas then sent the hilt of his left knife down onto the back of the neck, adding a sense of finality to the attack.  
  
The next one came rushing at him before he even had the time to fully regain his footing on the slippery stone and the force of the assailing blows knocked the Elf backwards further and further. Concentrating on keeping his footing and countering the attacks, Legolas had no real opportunity to attack the Orc on his own grounds or basis's so when another came rushing up to help finish the Elf off, he was completely unable to stop them both.  
  
The archer only just managed to block a well aimed sword stroke to his head by using both blades, thus leaving his left side open for attack. The other Orc, seeing this, lunged with his sword, aiming for the unprotected side of the Elf who only just had the time to move his arm to take the blow instead of his ribs. The sword slid off the hardened leather armguard that he wore and bit deeply into the flesh below, pulling a cry of pain from the Elf.  
  
The other assailing Orc charged and, putting his sword to the side, settled for smashing his body into that of the lean Elf, sending them both wheeling backwards and slamming the Elf between him and the stone walls of the fort. Legolas felt the air get knocked clear of his lungs and an added pressure on his previous wound on his back and that, on top of the Orc's attempts in flattening him to the wall, made his vision start to blur out of focus. . .  
  
*****  
  
Holding the door open for the men to pass through, Aragorn did not even notice that his two friends were missing until there was a large gap in the flow of people through the door. Spinning around, he saw that neither Legolas nor Gimli were in the passageway and he knew that they had not passed him to get into the safely of the fort.  
  
Cursing under his breath, he let the door slam as he ran at a backbreaking speed towards the end of the stone crevice. As he came near where the small space opened out, he heard a strangled cry from the Elf, and, knowing that things had turned bad, he quickened his pace.  
  
Rounding the corner, he was just in time to see the Orc slam Legolas up against the wall, the Elf practically disappearing from view as the heavy body pressed upon him. Gimli was lying on the ground, the blood easy to see even from this distance and surrounded by two jeering Orcs as they watched their friend try to kill the prince.  
  
Charging forward, he yelled out Legolas' name to let the Elf know that he was coming. Arriving behind the beast that was slowly pressing the Elf to death, he grabbed it by the shoulder and yanked it backwards while pushing his sword in through its back.  
  
Pulling the blade free, he cast the dead Orc to the ground and turned to the next one that had dared to try and kill the archer. Slamming his closed fist into its face, he quickly drew his sword in a large arch and severed its head, ending its pitiful life within seconds.  
  
Turning to Legolas, he saw the Elf leaning up against the wall, he face red and his breaths coming in shorts gasps as he tried to fill his lungs. He was holding his arm protectively and Aragorn could see a large amount of blood oozing from between the archers long fingers as well as a long cut along his left cheek, obviously caused from when the Orc rammed him.  
  
Reaching over to brush a strand of hair from Legolas' face, Aragorn studied him for a moment, checking for any more serious wounds. "Are you alright?" he asked gently and received a nod in return. Pressing his lips together, Aragorn offered him a small smile ere turning to go and succor Gimli.  
  
One of the Orcs was already rushing at him, and he countered its attack with a quick sidestep. Adding a small spin to his step, he came in facing the Orc and yet behind it and sent his sword deep into the beast's lower back.  
  
Turning to face the next and last one, he was rather surprised to see it already falling, a long, silver and gold blade sticking from its throat. Glancing over to Legolas, he saw that the Elf was pushing himself off the wall and flicking dripping locks of hair out of his face.  
  
Sharing one of the first smiles that they had in a long time, Aragorn crouched down next to Gimli and offered a hand up to the Elf to help him down.  
  
"Gimli?" Legolas asked while running a hand over the rough cheek of his dwarven friend while Aragorn slipped Legolas' knife back into its sheath.  
  
"Six!" Gimli muttered while opening his eyes to look at the two that sat peering at him. "I make my tale six so far, Master Elf."  
  
Smiling, Legolas started to pull the dwarf into a sitting position with the help of Aragorn. "Well, then, my friend, you have done far better then I." He lied, just relieved that Gimli was still alive and no longer having the care for such a folly thing.  
  
"Liar!" Gimli muttered as Aragorn stood and pulled the dwarf to his feet as gently as he could.  
  
"Both of you stop it!" the human said with a smile while getting the best grip that he could on the shorter dwarf. Legolas rose from the ground slowly, still slightly light headed from his near squashing, and took one of Gimli's arms, looped it around his waist and grabbed hold of the shorter beings shoulder.  
  
Exchanging a nod with Aragorn, they made their way as quickly as they could to the small side door, determined to get within the walls before any further attack fell upon them.  
  
*****  
  
Laying the still protesting Gimli down on one of the makeshift beds, Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a worried look over his head. The wound was deep and, even though Gimli denied it, both could see that it was the caused of a lot of pain. The dwarf had lost a considerable amount of blood which showed in the pallor of his face, also not being a good sign.  
  
"Stay here, my friend! You will be well looked after - just leave the fighting to us and concentrate on getting better." Legolas said softly while looking around the room. The citadel was almost full, all the human's wounded and slowly dying, there cries mingling in with that of the man next to them in a disheartening wail. Blood flowed easily onto the stone floor, forming little rivers in the cracks of the rock tiles, some overflowing and seeping over the surface of the stone making it both slippery and dangerous. Straw was everywhere; used for the sorry excuses of beds and thrown about the floor to soak up as much of the blood as possible. Healers ran backwards and forwards, somehow managing to keep their footing on the slick surface on which they walked, as they carried supplies and people this way and that. A few of the lesser injured men were scampering behind them, trying to help their fallen comrades and friends in the best way possible.  
  
Never in all his long life had Legolas seen such a sight. Death seemed to pollute the air and the smell of blood clung to everything just as the wails of hurting men never ceased. It was a frightening experience for the Elf; one of the immortals, to see such a large display of mortality and death. It was as if the individual did not matter, that they were all expendable and that it was not thought bad if the robed form of Death came and took them earlier then he should have.  
  
A bustling sound at the door and the terrified cry of a man alerted him to some form of trouble, and, looking over, he saw the guard that had been arguing with Aragorn earlier being carried in by two other men. He was covered in blood, his face pale, his eyes darkened and, getting a better look Legolas saw that he was missing his right arm, the limb severed from near the shoulder.  
  
One of the healers went to the man and they guided him towards a bed of straw. A soft gasp came from one of them, which Legolas could not tell, and then, just like that, the two that had carried the wounded man in turned and left. The healer did the same after taking a cloth and draping it over the man's head.  
  
Moving forward slowly, as if his legs had a mind of their own, Legolas reached the bedside of the guard. Reaching a shaking hand towards the cloth, he drew it back to have his gaze met with the unseeing eyes of a dead man.  
  
Gasping slightly, Legolas took a step back, almost feeling the presence of the deceased man standing next to him, waiting for his turn to be taken away by the angel of death. It had happened so fast, so quickly. One moment he had been carried in and the next his life was carelessly snuffed out like one would the flame of a candle at night. His two friends now gone and the only treatment that he had received was a dirty cloth to cove his eyes for the benefit of others. Who would morn the man, who would miss his death and thank the Valar for his sacrifice?  
  
The ways of men and war were so alien to Legolas. He had fought in many Elven wars, seen many dead before, but never on this scale and never with such triviality. Never had he been in a room that held so much lost hope and death, a room where the very floor was a river of life-blood, each person's mingling with that of the man next to him until the vital fluid held no sufficient meaning to anyone.  
  
It all may have been in the name of saving the world from evil, for doing the right thing, but, was it really worth it? To lose so many lives which, chances are, would not even be missed by those that still lived as they would be too caught up in their own pride of survival?  
  
A hand on his shoulder made him jump, but other then that, enticed no other reaction as the Elven prince stared into the unseeing eyes of the dead soldier.  
  
"Legolas?" the word was whispered softly and gently, so unlike the way that Aragorn had been talking to him over the last hours. Thinking of the man, Legolas could not help but wonder if his death would be missed by anyone should he be so cursed as to fall here, in this Valar forsaken place. Gimli was already passing, he knew that, and Aragorn just seemed to be angry at him for nothing, two of the hobbits were taken by the Orcs while the other two made their way to Mordor alone, probably never to be seen again. Gandalf was gone, off on his own business and Boromir fallen. If any of the three hunters were to die here it would go unnoticed, just three more bodies to be disposed of. Mirkwood would never hear of how or where their prince fell and the twins and Arwen would never know of Aragorn's death should it come to pass.  
  
"Legolas?" the voice was repeated and seemed a little scared. Knowing that he should give Aragorn some sign that he was alright, he mutely nodded his head. "It's alright, my friend," Aragorn spoke quietly into his ear while slipping an arm around his waits and forcing him to turn his eyes from the dead man that lay before them.  
  
Without even thinking, the Elf pushed his head into the bulk of Aragorn's tunic, trying to shield his eyes from the death that lay all around them. Closing his eyes, he could see the slightly glassy look in the man's eyes and the ashen of his face, his mouth slightly open in shock. "So much. . ." he whispered into the material that he clung to with both hands.  
  
Stroking the Elf's blond hair with one hand and letting the other run up and down his back, Aragorn rested his head on the prince's head. "What, Legolas?" he asked gently, "what is there so much of?"  
  
Even Aragorn did not seem to see what was happening about them, how people were dying before their time and almost needlessly and it worried Legolas that the human seemed to take it all in his stride as if it did not matter. "Death," Legolas said silently, "too much death."  
  
Pulling the Elf closer into his embrace and tightening his arms around the slender creature, Aragorn quietly hushed him while whispering in Sindar to calm the fretting Elf. This was exactly why he had not wanted Legolas here, had not wanted the Elf that savored life and all that it had to offer see such a cold attitude towards the dying and the dead. He was well aware of the way that all this would have appeared to the prince but how could he tell him that to block out others suffering was the only way that a human could continue, could keep their feet and heads functioning?  
  
Deciding that it best not to try and explain it away incase he only made it worse, he gently tugged on the Elf and took a step backwards, slowly walking Legolas back towards where Gimli lay, watching Aragorn's actions towards Legolas play out with a strange interest.  
  
Once there, the ranger held the Elf out at arm's length and looked into his eyes. Legolas had not been crying, but they were red and puffy looking nonetheless, showing his emotional turmoil at what he had found in this room and the ancient wisdom that his face did not exhibit.  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn asked once again only to receive a nod in return. Making up his mind quickly, he turned the elf and, putting his hands on his shoulders, walked him towards one of the beds in the furthest and cleanest corners of the room. "You are going to stay here!"  
  
Hearing the words that he had been told all through the battle and even before hand, Legolas automatically went into a fury. Twisting out of Aragorn's grip, he spun on the man and glared him down, his eyes narrowed into what Aragorn knew all too well as a sigh of murderous anger. "Would you stop trying to keep me out of this?" the Elf hissed at the human.  
  
"Legolas, I am only trying to protect you!" Aragorn retorted while holding his hands up in the air and taking a step back from the enraged Elf. Aragorn had long learnt that it was not wise to be near him when in one of these moods, let alone be on the receiving end.  
  
"I do not need protecting!" Legolas protested while mirroring Aragorn backwards step with a forwards one.  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn hissed between his teeth. They were starting to draw attention to themselves and that was not a good thing as far as Aragorn was concerned. "Just stay here for awhile, where you will be sa-"  
  
"Safe?" Legolas yelped, the pent up emotions getting the better of him and, unlike Aragorn, not caring if they made a scene. "You are a fool if you think that anyone is safe here! You do not get that do you? You can not hide me away claiming that it is to keep me safe and that it is what any friend would do - I am here now! I am here and there is nothing that you can do to change that for nowhere is safe!"  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn tried to reason with the prince but was interrupted again by the still advancing Elf.  
  
"I do not know what I have done to lose your respect and trust, but at the moment I do not care! I care that our friend lies over there a step away from deaths door, like most of these men. I care that the rest of our group has either fallen or is suffering at the hands of Orcs and I care that we are here now, in the middle of this battle and it would do well for you to also put aside whatever I have done to offend you so that we may at least have some chance of getting out of here. As much as you seem to hate to admit it, *Strider*, you need me in this so stop trying to get rid of me!"  
  
Letting his glare put a stop to any of the man's protests, Legolas stormed past him and passed the healer that had gone to see about the guard who had just been brought in. Grabbing the human by the collar and dragging him over towards Gimli, Legolas almost threw the human man at the dwarf's bed ere he stepped up and grabbed him by the collar again, pulling the man's face up to his and his feet just off the floor.  
  
"Now, listen very closely," he hissed, his voice clear and the words spoken slowly and crisply so that not one syllable was lost. "You are going to see to my friend and you are going to do a better job then you did for that poor man over yonder," he gestured towards the dead man that he had been staring at only a few moments ago.  
  
Pulling the human even closer, he whispered dangerously into the man's ear. "If he dies, I promise you that I will send you on your way to so that you may apologize to him for your bland lack of respect towards life! Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Furiously nodding his agreement, the healer was relieved when the Elf put him down and let go of his tunic. Not risking a look at the angry blond, he turned and immediately started barking out orders to his helpers to bring him cloths and water for the dwarf.  
  
Proud of the help that he had acquired for his friend, Legolas bowed slightly to a rather stunned Gimli and exited the room, his face still a mask of hate and fury.  
  
Seeing the Elf go, Aragorn stamped his foot in aggravation ere he grabbed his discarded sword and hurried out after him.  
  
*****  
  
Blood stained the ground and added to the slipperiness of the mud that was underfoot as Legolas stormed out of the citadel, his rage building up inside of him with each and every step. He was sick of the way that Aragorn had been treating him, as if he were but a nescience and was not even worthy of the human's friendship, and then to have Gimli wounded. . . it was slowly starting to ebb at his sanity.  
  
"Legolas?" he heard his named called out and knew the voice to be Aragorn's. Not wanting to talk to the man or even see him, the Elf quickened his pace and kept going, careful not to lose his footing in the squelchy earth.  
  
"Legolas. Stop!" Aragorn called while hurrying after the blond and not doing as good a job at keeping upright. Looking up, his breath caught in his throat as he saw Legolas stomping through the mud with his head down, unheeding of the dark shape of an Orc that came out from the right. "Legolas!" he cried out desperately.  
  
Not listening to the human behind him, the Elf picked up on the sound of a foot sinking into the blood saturated mud and, looking up just long enough to get a glimpse of an Orc, put his head back down and kept walking. Pulling one of his blades from his back, he flipped it over his hand and, walking causally up to the Orc with his head still down, slammed the bow- knife through the beast's stomach, catching it completely out of surprise.  
  
Black blood split over his arm, the fluid still warm as the body slipped from the knife and fell with a splat and a suctioning pop into the mud. Wiping the length of his dagger onto his pants, he re-sheathed it and started on his way again, this time completely unaware of the dead Orc's companion that stood off to the right.  
  
Aragorn was not so blind. Having seen Legolas kill the Orc effortlessly, he had breathed out a sigh of relief and yet something glimmering in the firelight from the entrance to the citadel had once again caught his attention. Looking to the right, he saw the other Orc, what it held and what it was about to do.  
  
Knowing that even if he yelled out again, Legolas would just ignore him, Aragorn did the only other thing possible.  
  
Running as fast as he could through the slush, Aragorn only just managed to knock Legolas out of the way of the Orc's unforeseen danger which had been thrown right at the centre of the Elf's back. The blade sailed over head, just missing Aragorn's exposed back and hit the ground, sinking into the mud as quickly as if it were quicksand.  
  
Landing on his back, Legolas felt the length of his quiver press into his wound as it was squashed between him and the mud covered hewn stone of the floor. Within a second another weight added to the building pressure as Aragorn landed somewhat painfully on top of the slender Elf.  
  
Groaning slightly, Legolas automatically let his hands drift up to the man's upper arms in what was a vain attempt of shoving the man off him, and yet, as he pushed up he felt Aragorn push down on him further, keeping him pressed against the stone.  
  
"Stop it!" Aragorn hissed out dangerously, "stay still - it is still alive." Understanding immediately, Legolas halted his attempts of ridding himself of the human's weight and stayed as still as possible, listening for the sounds of the Orc that they had encountered.  
  
Moving his hand along the ground, the Elf felt the cool touch of steel at his finger tips and, clasping his hand over the hilt of one of his daggers, he waited.  
  
A noise off to the right alerted him of the being that was seeking to bring about their destruction, and, in one quick movement, he rolled Aragorn off him and sent the blade flying through the air and into the throat of the Orc.  
  
The beast fell with a soft cry, its blood flowing freely from its throat and mingling in with the black and red mud, leaving the two friends lying there on their backs, breathing deeply.  
  
"That was good!" Aragorn said concisely while staring up at the darkened sky and enjoying the moments rest that he was getting.  
  
Nodding slightly, Legolas just sighed while also looking up at the starless night. After a few moments, light laughter started to drift from his lips as he lay there unmoving but for the raising of his chest and his shoulders.  
  
"Prey tell Legolas, what is so funny?" Aragorn asked, his voice lined with his own mirth at just the sound of the Elf amusement.  
  
Turning to look at his friend, Legolas smiled impishly and bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter. "I just do not recall anytime that I was so relieved to be lying in the mud!"  
  
That did it. Before long the two friends where lying there, holding their sides in hilarity, completely unheeding of the battle that was being fought only around the corner from them. It was like the old days, when they would go out into the forest and hunt or just spend the days under the shades of the trees before all this evil swept back into the world.  
  
Finally getting a grip, Aragorn pushed himself up into a sitting position next to the Elf and looked down at him. Legolas' golden hair was everywhere; having been flattened to his face by the rain and then sprayed out over the mud in the fall and was now a tangle of gold and brown upon his shoulders, face and the ground. Dark black blood splattered his clothes and skin while mixing with the mud and dirt from the fight. A small cut ran the length of his right cheek and a deep arm wound bleed profoundly into the thick slush that the Elf lay in.  
  
Smiling at the beauty of his friend, even in such a state, Aragorn reached down and gently pushed a few of the strands of Legolas' hair out of his face, startling the still laughing Elf into silence. Locking eyes, the two just looked at each other, each with their own questions and yet not wanting to speak as Aragorn let his hand trail over the pale skin and brushed the Elf's hair behind his left ear. Smile broadening, Aragorn's hand seemed to have a life of its own as he swept his knuckles lightly over the Elf's cheek, drawing little circles and causing Legolas to shudder slightly.  
  
"You know that I do not mean to offend you, do you not?" Aragorn asked quietly while letting his hands keep moving over the smooth flesh. "You have done nothing wrong, Legolas, nothing at all!"  
  
Suppressing the strange shivers that traveled through his body at Aragorn' touch, Legolas kept looking into the human's eyes, seeing only truth. "Then why do you treat me as if I had?"  
  
Still smiling, Aragorn simply said, "it is complicated."  
  
"Well," Legolas stated matter-of-factly, "if it concerns me, I do think that I have a right to know, so do your best, human." His cheeky smile had returned after having decided that he like Aragorn touching him like thus and the last word was added with even more of a grin.  
  
Watching the Elf with unhidden interest, Aragorn moved his hand down further so that he could run his fingers across Legolas' lips, sending further shivers through the Elf. Smile enlarging, Aragorn could not help but ask the first thing that came to his mind. "Do you like that, Legolas?"  
  
"Actually," Legolas said with his own playful smile while Aragorn's fingers still moved about his lips, "I think it is more being caused by the cold mud that is slowly starting to seep through my clothes!" Raising his eyebrows and pushing his lips together between his teeth, he offered Aragorn his best comic face, making the human start laughing again. "Now, do not change the subject and try to explain this 'confusing' thing to me that makes you treat me as a child!"  
  
Acting on pure impulse at the wicked grin on Legolas' face, Aragorn leaned down and pressed his lips to the Elf's while his hand stopped its movement and cupped Legolas' left cheek. Trying hard to stop himself from being too rough, Aragorn concentrated on keeping the kiss sweet and gentle and was thoroughly pleased when he did not feel Legolas trying to pull away from his invading lips.  
  
Bringing his other hand up to cup Legolas' right cheek, he was careful not to bump the already healing cut that lay there as he pressed his lips further onto Legolas'; seeking more.  
  
He was aware that Legolas seemed to be in some sort of shock, but slowly and much to his relief, the human could feel Legolas returning the kiss somewhat hesitantly. Knowing that the Elf would need a few moments to think and the knowledge that he himself was rather short on air, Aragorn reluctantly pulled away and sat back on his heels, giving Legolas the room that he would probably need - and Aragorn a moment's head start should the Elf start screaming blue murder.  
  
Looking up into the eyes of the human that he had known for years, Legolas saw something in his eyes that he had never seen before even though he could not quite put his finger on it.  
  
Seeing that the human was slightly panicked, Legolas searched desperately for something to say that would hopefully put Aragorn's mind at ease, after all, he had quite enjoyed that.  
  
"Well," Legolas exclaimed, a rather becoming flush across his face, "you were right. That was - er - complicated!" Offering Aragorn a reassuring smile, it was like he could see the weight getting lifted off the man's shoulders at his words, and he was glad that he had such an effect. "I mean," he went on, not really wanting to say more but for some reason not being able to stop himself due to the strangeness of the situation. "One minute you hate me and try to lock me away and then the next minute you kiss me while I am lying almost an inch deep in mud - it is-"  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn cut in, a small smile on his lips.  
  
"Humm?" the Elf asked while not really paying attention to what he was doing and still mentally continuing his sentence.  
  
"You are babbling!" Aragorn pointed out with a smile that reached his eyes. It was a good sign to have Legolas randomly talking, as, since he was the type to only say what needed to be said, one could tell that if he was overly talkative, he was happy about something.  
  
Blushing again, Legolas looked down at the mud that was starting to swirl around him as the rain once again began to fall. A hand at his chin gently pushed his face up and he once again found himself looking into Aragorn's storm grey eyes. "So I take that as reassurance that you are not going to kill me for that."  
  
Nodding and smiling, Legolas allowed Aragorn's hands to once again brush upon his face, enjoying the touch more then he knew that he ever could. "But," he said, "I still do not understand."  
  
"Understand what?" Aragorn breathed out and stopped himself just in time before he ended that with a small word that he knew Legolas would not appreciate just yet.  
  
"If this," he reached up and grasped one of Aragorn's hands that was stroking his face, "was what you felt, then why push me away?"  
  
Sighing and letting his other hand continue his menstruations, Aragorn looked the Elf right in the eyes. "I told you, I did not want to see you get hurt." As Legolas was about to protest, he placed a finger over his lips and went on, "I know it seems stupid - it even does to me, but I guess that I thought that if I had you angry enough that you would keep away from me and the battle."  
  
"Ah, so you were being a fool!" Legolas stated with a smile.  
  
"Call it that if you will," Aragorn muttered while leaning forward to claim the Elf's lips again, only this time a loud cry made them practically jump apart and Legolas spring into a sitting position.  
  
"The gates! The gates!" a man yelled from down near the front walls. "The gates won't hold! They are breaking!"  
  
Casting each other looks of dismay; Aragorn stood to his feet and offered a hand down to the mud covered Legolas who gratefully accepted it. "Never mind," Legolas muttered while shoving his mud caked hair over his shoulders and sending a prayer to the Valar thanking them for the rain to wash all the mud off his clothes before it dried and hindered his movements. "I was going to get up anyway; I was getting a numb back!"  
  
Aragorn just laughed as the Elf continued to complain while trying to get the mud and blood off his quiver. "Legolas," Aragorn interrupted, "you are babbling again!"  
  
"Silence!" Legolas commanded while shooting the ranger a warning look as he ripped his bow-knife from the dead Orc's throat.  
  
Once again the man from the gate called, crying for all able bodied warriors to come and aid them. Exchanging a quick look, both Elf and man took off at a cracking pace through the mud towards where they were needed.  
  
*****  
  
Tbc. . .  
  
Hehe, I thought that I would leave it on a happy note for you. And I am rather proud of the closest thing to real slash that you will ever get from me! Lol. Umm, my fear is making Legolas to effeminate, so let me know if you think he is. Oh, and it was so hard not to put something along the lines of Legolas saying "Now I have a wet ass!" And Aragorn saying "well, it looks good from here!" LOL!  
  
Please review and make me happy.  
  
NEXT CHAPTER: the real battle starts as the last survivors strive to hold the Deep and prevent the Orcs entrance. We have lots of fight scenes, lots of wounds and a neat trick involving a bunch of Orcs, Legolas and two barrels of something!  
  
*****  
  
PREVIEW:  
  
Gripping the Orc's forearms, Legolas tried to push himself up and out from under the Orc's restricting legs, yet all his struggles did was land him another painful push into his ribs, taking the air from his lungs again. Seeing bright white spots burst before his eyes, panic set into the Elf as the beast atop him moved so that it could lean down and lick some of the blood from his cut cheek.  
  
Cringing, Legolas tried to pull away but between the Orc's arms and legs, he may as well have been caught in a cage.  
  
Sobbing from pain and disgust, Legolas' his eyes fluttered shut and his body went limp.  
  
*****  
  
Minka --- she of the direction! 


	5. No One's Untouchable, part 2

Ok, well it is official. If I ever find Peter Jackson I am so going to kick his ass for how he murdered The Two Towers! He changed it so much - it was so depressing! I mean, I was good, and I will be seeing it countless times, but still, he had no right to go sending an Elven army where they never where, or killing of a beloved character - for crying out loud, Legolas did not even receive his "Legolas Greenleaf, long under tree. . ." 'death' warning!!!! *is really angry about that* but Gollum was cute in a diabolically evil way and they did wonders with the Legolas close ups (almost drowned in my own drool!) and I liked the fight between Aragorn and Legolas - that was good. So don't worry, I shall only kick his ass a little - then ask for Orlando Bloom's phone number! LOL. But did anyone else think that in the "You're late" and the "there is nothing to forgive" scenes, if Aragorn and Legolas jumped each other and started to make out it would have been LESS obvious!? Lol.  
  
Anyway, getting down to business, this is the next chapter (obviously). I was glad that so many people liked the last one and thank you for all the wonderful reviews!  
  
Ok, I must say this, there is a very detailed battle scene that contains a large string of wonderful violence, blood, guts and flame, so consider yourself warned. Also remember that this was written before the movie even came out, so it will be different, though I was proud with my interpretation of the 'sliding/surfing down the stairs' scene with Legolas. He was really good in that movie - he became a little edgier; glared at everyone and I loved the way that he just sent his fist over his shoulder and got he guy who was sneaking up on him in Edoras and had that really sadistic grin on his face while punching them all! Lol, wonderful!  
  
OH, also, make sure that read the words to the songs that I have included in the last chapter and this one, as they will all tie together in the last chapter. . .  
  
Enjoy - and please don't kill me too much after you finish reading what I did to them all! *angelic face*  
  
*****  
  
Dangerously in Love  
  
Chapter Five  
  
No One's Untouchable part 2  
  
*****  
  
Can you feel me?  
  
Slipping slowly from your reach.  
  
You hear me?  
  
When I have lost the will to speak.  
  
Can't you see?  
  
We're running out of ways to stay alive.  
  
  
  
Crash Palace  
  
*****  
  
Sending his elbow into the underside of the Orc's chin, Legolas used his other hand for leverage and snapped the head up, breaking the neck with the one blow. Looking around him, he was dis-encouraged to see Orc's everywhere. No matter how many he or the others killed there just seemed to be more and more; two for each that was felled.  
  
To his left a man was slammed up against a wall by one of the fell beast and the black sword pierced the human's heart before Legolas even had the chance to move and aid him. The right revealed a similar fate for a warrior as he was struck down with a large club, blood spurting from his head instantaneously after the blow fell.  
  
He and Aragorn had arrived too late. The gates were broken, their shattered timbers pushed into the muddied ground and the opening swarming with countless Orcs. Small clusters of men still fought on, keeping back to back and trying to defend the fort the best they could, but it did not look good for those within. The men were breaking, scattering and falling back further into the ravine, their hope destroyed with the destruction of the gates.  
  
"Legolas!" he could hear Aragorn shouting at him now and turning to the sound of the voice, the prince saw the human standing a small way in front of him, his sword covered in blood and his face speckled with black. "Legolas, fall back!' he ordered of the Elf, and almost immediately Legolas felt the rebellion build up inside of him.  
  
Aragorn was making no move to retreat and nor would he. Kneeling down on the stairs and drawing his bow, Legolas shook his head when the human looked at him to stress his point. "I am not leaving if you are not!" Legolas stated while fitting his second last arrow to the string of his bow and bending it, waiting for the Orcs to spill through the crumbed gate.  
  
"Damn you!" Aragorn muttered as he tightened his grip on his sword while digging his foot further into the mud as a brace.  
  
"I heard that!" Legolas' light voice called from above his head, causing the man to smile despite himself. It fascinated him how even in the worst of situations, Legolas could always make him laugh and at least feel a little at ease, and, if it had not been so dangerous, he would have been glad to have the Elf standing with him.  
  
But this time it was different, this time it was more deadly then any other battle that they had ever faced together, as this time, hope had truly forsaken them.  
  
As more of the Orcs flowed through the broken gates, Aragorn stood his ground and lifted his sword. A group of brave warriors around him did the same and Legolas, perched above their heads on the steps, was forever watchful.  
  
Moving forward and spinning his sword once, Aragorn took off the head of the closest Orc while the men behind him rushed forward to do the same. Kicking out at another, Aragorn caught it in its chest and sent it wheeling back, giving him time to dispose of another with a quick thrust before turning back to the once again advancing beast. Blocking its blow with his sword, he sent his other fist into its twisted face, stunning it enough to have the time to stab his sword right through its chest.  
  
Watching the fight from above, Legolas saw one of the men get pressed between two Orcs, and, barely aiming, he let his arrow fly and saw it sink into the soft flesh of the Orc's neck. The man turned and swiftly killed the other prior to giving Legolas a slight nod of thanks before once again moving off into the fight.  
  
Fitting his last arrow to his string, Legolas gave it a fond look, knowing that from here on it would be all knife work. Looking back at the fight below, he waited for the perfect moment to use the last of his weapons of choice.  
  
Seeking out Aragorn in the mêlée, he soon found the moment that he had been waiting for. Seeing the man stabbed through the shoulder with an Orcan blade, Legolas wasted no time. Glimpsing a discarded shield lying next to him, a rather daring idea came to him, and, without much thought at all, he stood and grabbed it.  
  
Casting the shield to the top of the stairs, he stood on it and, pulling his bow taut first, pushed off, successfully sliding down the stairs on the curved metal. Pulling his arm back and pulling the bow even tighter, he let the shaft fly though the air, killing the beast that threatened Aragorn's life.  
  
Seeing the Orc fall dead at his feet and knowing that he had not done that, Aragorn looked up to see Legolas literally sliding down the stairs in an upright position, the shield at his feet blocked by the masses of heads.  
  
As the sliding Elf came near the end of the steps, he reached back and, grabbing hold of his two bow-knives, threw himself into a flip, using the motion of drawing his blades as a propelling force. Landing on his feet, he immediately switched his grip on his blade to an over-hold and drove both bow-knives out to the sides, catching two Orcs that where rushing at him in the lower stomach. Snapping his arms back, he spun the blades as they came back; once again changing his grip and stepped forward, driving both into either side of an Orc's throat.  
  
Satisfied with his entrance into the fight, Legolas moved off to aid another man who was being pressed back towards the wall by a furious Orc.  
  
Smiling at Legolas' appearance, Aragorn pressed his hand to his shoulder, trying to stop the pain ere moving off towards his next dueler.  
  
*****  
  
"Fall back!" Legolas yelled at the other men while taking a moment to wave his hand towards the citadel. "Fall back now!" he commanded. Some of the men looked around, a little dazed at the idea of retreating as they obviously did not see the desperation of the situation while others steadily started to work their way back towards the fortified caves.  
  
They had put up a long fight, killing many of the Orc's numbers but, no matter how many they fell, twice as many poured in through the gates as back up. It was becoming hopeless and further still, they had lost many more of their own men, leaving them with well below twenty warriors in fighting condition and still on the field.  
  
Ducking under a sword and spinning with his knees bent, Legolas sent his blades up into the abdomen of the beast, killing it before its entrails were severed from its body. Stepping out of the way of the falling carnage, the Elf once again shouted out to the others to fall back.  
  
Hearing Legolas' orders, Aragorn looked around, seeing the Elf kill yet another Orc effortlessly. Off to the left of his vision, he could see the warriors fighting their way back, trying to get further into the Deep, and, casting one last look to Legolas to make sure he was alright, he went back to his own fight.  
  
Just as he turned, a large Orc, unseen to all, came up behind the preoccupied prince.  
  
Using his arms in a scissor motion, Legolas slit the throat of the Orc that he was dueling with twice, almost cutting the head clean right off. A sudden splitting pain to the back of his head was the first sign of his attacker, and, as he fell forward, the mud splashing about his knees, he saw a huge Orc step in front of him. Raising his pulsing head to look at it, the Elf was shocked to see that it would have stood a further head and a half taller then he, completely unnatural for any of the twisted race.  
  
Feeling a shiver of fear race along his spine, the Elf was about to stand when the beast's large, metal capped boot compacted forcefully with his chest. Gasping out and doubling over on his own knees, his hands instantly went to his throbbing middle and with horror he could already feel that at least one of his ribs on his right side was cracked.  
  
A second kick came harder then the first, unexpected as the Elf attempted to relieve the pain of the first, and trapped his left hand between the boot and his ribs, shattering and fragmentizing the delicate bones of his palm. Crying out and gasping with the intense pain that shot the entire way up his left arm, Legolas leaned forward, panting heavily while holding onto his ribs and unconsciously giving the Orc an opening.  
  
The beast, seeing the blood stains on the back of the Elf's cloak, balled its fist and sent it slamming down onto the healing wound, ripping a scream of agony from the prince and flattening him face first into the mud.  
  
Feeling the recently healed flesh tear apart and the immediate warm trickle of rivulets of blood flow down his back, Legolas battled to keep his concentration and his eyes open and focused. The mud on the ground seemed to swirl around him, as if the world was revolving almost quicker then the eye could see, and the small rocks and chucks of broken wood seemed to dance this way and that while molding into whatever was next to the fragment.  
  
Sending another powerful kick into the Elf's right side, Legolas found himself half spinning through the air at the force behind the swing. Landing on his back, he felt a small rock press into the gash on his back and almost dry retching with the pain, he looked up with tear filled eyes to see the beast come and stand before him.  
  
Breathing heavily and clutching his side and smashed hand, Legolas watched with the horror of knowing that he could do naught as the Orc bent down, its hand outstretched.  
  
As the hand clamped tightly around his neck, the Elven prince felt a strong tugging and with sickening realization, he felt himself getting lifted into the air by his throat. Scrapping his boots along the ground in a desperate attempt in getting a foothold, all he did was slip and cause more painful jerking to both his ribs and his throat as he slipped through the smooth mud. Tightening both hands over the Orc's one, the prince attempted to pull it from his throat, and yet when the grip proved to be made of iron, settled for trying to slide his neck further up in the hands in an endeavor to transfer the pressure from under his chin to his arms.  
  
Feeling the air getting squeezed from his throat and lungs, Legolas renewed his struggles against the beast that held him at least a foot off the ground. The creature's twisted face was a blur of black and through his misty eyes, Legolas could make out naught but the snarling lips and jagged, pointed teeth that were concealed within the mouth that was moving closer and closer towards Elf, drool from the imagined taste of Elven blood already running down the large chin. . .  
  
Suspecting that something was wrong, Aragorn killed the Orc that he was fighting with and looked desperately around for the Elf. When his gaze finally fell on Legolas, his eyes widened in fear as he saw one of the larger Orcs holding the prince suspended off the ground by his throat. The human could see from here that Legolas' face was starting to go as strange shade of blue and, without so much as a second thought, he ran full pelt at the beast that had the Elf that he cared so much about in a death grip.  
  
The beast looked around just as Aragorn came up on its right, but, having the element of surprise; Aragorn sent his sword straight into the Orc's heart, killing it almost instantly.  
  
As the realization of its death came upon it, it dropped the limp Legolas whom Aragorn only just managed to catch before the Elf fell to the ground. Holding the Elf to his chest, Aragorn looked over Legolas' pale face and slightly glazed eyes.  
  
"Legolas?" he questioned while lightly tapping the Elf's right cheek, "Legolas, are you alright?" All the while the human was walking backwards, the Elf's unmoving feet dragging lightly through the mud as he was pulled along.  
  
Moaning and nodding his head, Legolas blinked his eyes clear while rasping out a small, "thank you." and struggled to stand in the man's grasp before Aragorn saw any of the other wounds that he has sustained. Aragorn reluctantly helped the Elf to his feet, not happy with the idea of Legolas going back out and fighting so soon.  
  
Seeing the man's obvious unease at the situation, Legolas smiled and reached down to grab his bow-knives. Twirling them painfully over his hands almost faster then the eye could see, he was pleased to find that he could still just move his left. "See, I am fine."  
  
"Very well," Aragorn said slowly while casting the archer a suspicious look yet knowing that there was no use arguing with him, especially now. As the prince sent him a dazzling smile, Aragorn added as a last note, "but if I ever catch you giving anyone else that smile, I will kill them!"  
  
Laughing slightly, the two warriors turned back towards the fight in time to see the Orcs catching up with their retreat, one secretly glad that he was able to fool the other about the gravity of his wounds.  
  
As soon as Aragorn turned back to the Orcs, Legolas allowed his face to crumble with the pain that he was holding in. Feeling around his left hand that still tightly gripped the dagger in fear of not being able to hold it again should he let it go, Legolas could feel all the small fractures and shards of bone. Hissing as he applied even the smallest of pressure to it, he decided it best to rely only on his right hand for knife work.  
  
Tucking the blade back into its casing, he rotated his shoulder, testing the reopened wound while probing his ribs gently. He could feel two broken on the right and a possible break on the left and his shoulder stung with each movement.  
  
At a startled cry from Aragorn, Legolas looked up from his self assessing with terror gripping tightly at his heart. Looking around for the man, he saw him on his knees in the centre of a group of Orcs, holding onto a sword that still protruded from his lower abdomen.  
  
The Orcs had obviously come upon them quicker then Legolas had thought, and Aragorn, seeing that the Elf was distracted, went to take them on.  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas quickly cast aside his own hurts and ran forward as quickly as his wounds would allow him. Stabbing the first Orc though the back of the neck, he whirled on the next and slit its throat. Stepping to the side of a sword swing, Legolas came in behind another and, using his left arm and his right hand, snapped the neck of the fell beast. Throwing his bow-knife into the unprotected heart of another Orc, he was caught completely by surprise when a strong body slammed into him from the right, knocking his broken ribs yet again at the impact.  
  
Crying out and fighting back the tears that stung his eyes, Legolas clawed at the ground and started to pull himself from underneath the larger creature.  
  
Reaching up, the Orc closed its fists around both of the Elf's ankles, and, with an almighty tug, pulled the Elf through the slimy mud and back underneath it. Flipping the Elf over beneath it, the Orc straddled the prince and pushed down on the right side of Legolas' chest, to cease his struggles, with an excited gleam in its eyes, obviously catching onto Legolas' injuries.  
  
Seeing the prince caught under the leering beast, Aragorn' heart began to race quicker and quicker, afraid of what might befall Legolas next. Attempting to get to his feet, his movement was put a sharp stop to as one of the Orcs leant forward and ripped the blade from his stomach. Falling to the ground, his face turned to the right and not having the energy to move it, he was forced to see the one that he loved struggling from his trapped position under one of the beast that they both hated more then anything that walked the Ambar.  
  
Gripping the Orc's forearms, Legolas tried to push himself up and out from under the Orc's restricting legs, yet all his struggles did was land him another painful punch into his ribs, stealing the air from his lungs again. Seeing bright white spots burst before his eyes, panic set into the Elf as the beast atop him moved so that it could lean down and lick some of the blood from his cut cheek.  
  
Cringing, Legolas tried to pull away but between the Orc's arms and legs, he may as well have been caught in a cage.  
  
Sobbing from pain and disgust, Legolas' eyes fluttered shut and his body went limp. . .  
  
Seeing the Elf slump upon the ground and his eyes roll back into his head, Aragorn let out a small, strangle cry, knowing that it was all over. Secretly hoping that Legolas was in fact dead to save him from any further torment, Aragorn too closed his eyes, waiting for death to come over him as his blood quickly escaped his body, and so that he would not have to remain when the Elf had passed.  
  
The Orc, seeing that his sport had either died or passed out, sat up straight on the Elf and looked down on him. Moving a hand over to his captive's throat to check for a pulse, it gasped when Legolas' eyes snapped open and his right hand shot up and latched around the Orc's arm.  
  
His plan having worked; knowing that if he appeared dead the Orc would be upset that it had no live play thing to toy with; Legolas took the advantage of surprise that his apparent return to life had given him.  
  
Quickly changing his grip on the beast's arm so that his hand wrapped around the thick limb from below and his right thumb was on the outside of the arm, Legolas twisted it painfully down, making the Orc move into the pull thus un-centering its balance. Pushing up with his left side, Legolas continued to pull down on the Orc's left arm and, with as much strength as he had left, successfully flipped their positions.  
  
Now straddling the Orc, he let go of its arm and rammed his closed right fist into the throat of the beast, crushing the windpipe with the force of the blow. Watching the beast turn an odd shade of blue-black, Legolas kept it pinned down until the last wisps of air and breath left its body.  
  
Keeping his head still but moving his eyes, Legolas looked to the two remaining Orcs that stood over Aragorn, hate in his eyes and a snarl upon his lips. Legolas' hair was caked in mud and plastered to his face and the blood running down his cheek and the corner of his mouth only further added to the sinister look of the normally placid prince.  
  
Panicked by the apparent re-life that the Elf possessed and the obvious strength that his thin frame held, the Orcs slowly started to back away, their sport long forgotten among their fear.  
  
Sniffing and wiping the blood and mud out of his eyes, Legolas slowly rose to his feet and stumbled over towards Aragorn. Throwing himself rather ungracefully at the human's side, Legolas looked down on the man. His eyes were tightly closed and his face drawn and pale. Gasping, Legolas reached forward, sure that the human was dead, but, as his hand brushed against Aragorn cheek lightly, the rangers eyes snapped open and an overjoyed smile come upon his face.  
  
Frowning at the strange response while helping the man into a sitting positing, Legolas found an arm looped around him and a happy ranger pressing soft kisses to his forehead.  
  
"I thought you were dead!" Aragorn muttered after he calmed down and took Legolas' head in his blood covered hands. "I thought you were dead," he said softer and more pointedly while looking deeply into the Elf's eyes.  
  
Smiling, Legolas took Aragorn's left hand in his right and gently pulled it from his face. "It takes a lot more then that to get rid of me, you should know that!"  
  
Looking down, Legolas tried to hide his fear at the large amount of blood that ran freely from the wound that Aragorn had been dealt. On closer inspection, it was not through his stomach yet more off to the side thus missing any vital organs which was a relief. It was merely the deepness of the wound that caused reason to worry and the fact that the cut was quickly losing blood, the dark substance spreading quickly down the ranger's front.  
  
Grabbing the other of his daggers from its position at his back, Legolas cut the bottom off his light blue undershirt and folded it up as best he could with one hand.  
  
Reaching out, Aragorn gently took the Elf's left hand, catching Legolas off guard. "What happened?" Aragorn demanded and when he received no answer, he questioned again and with more force, "when?"  
  
"Awhile ago," Legolas answered, being too afraid to tell the injured man anything that may cause him to stress. Going to pull his hand away, he felt Aragorn tighten in grip on it and gently prod the fingers and the palm, enticing small gasps of pain from Legolas.  
  
"Legolas, this is-"  
  
"I know," Legolas admitted, for once not trying to hide the severity of one of his wounds. After all, he was just glad that Aragorn was alive and yet to find out about his ribs. "But we can worry about all this later. First we have to get back to the citadel."  
  
Cutting a small line two hand spans from the bottom of his cloak, Legolas ripped it around the base, giving him a long strip. "I am going to need your help," Legolas said quietly, knowing that he could not bind the wound one handed.  
  
Nodding his agreement, Aragorn took the makeshift wadding that Legolas handed him and pressed it to the wound while the Elf quickly looped the strip of his cape around the man's waist as many times as it would fit. With Aragorn holding one end and Legolas the other, they tied it off as tight as possible, slowing the flow of blood for the time being.  
  
Going to stand, Legolas felt Aragorn pull him back down to the ground. Shooting him a puzzled look, he saw that the human was also busy cutting a strip of cloth from his own tunic using one of his small daggers. Taking the Elf's left hand, he bound it tightly and thickly, minimizing the movement and adding padding to block any knocks that it may come into contact with.  
  
Pulling the limp hand to his mouth, Aragorn placed a small kiss on the slender, bruised wrist. Smiling with a faint blush, Legolas stood to his feet, hiding his hurt ribs as best as he could, and then reached down for Aragorn. Grasping the man and pulling him gently to his feet, he looped his damaged hand around the man's waist and draped Aragorn's arm over his shoulder, preferring to put the human's weight on the left side than the right.  
  
"And I will have a look at those cracked ribs when we get to safety," Aragorn said with an all-knowing look upon his face.  
  
"Damn you," Legolas muttered while getting them moving and pulling Aragorn along. The man's breath was coming in shorter and shorter breaths and his head was hanging forward, his hair plastered to his sweat covered face.  
  
"You can not hide anything from me, little Elf," Aragorn chuckled between breaths.  
  
"Oh yeah?" Legolas dared the human, trying to keep both their minds off what was happening and how grim the situation really was. "You sure about that?"  
  
"Oh, I know-" Aragorn was cut off at the sound of more Orcs swarming through the gates just below them.  
  
Rolling his eyes and tightening his grip on the man, Legolas half dragged them up the stairs, his fear lending him strength and a second wind.  
  
Knowing that the Orcs would be on them soon and that they would never have time to make it to the citadel before they were caught, Legolas looked desperately around for anything that would aid them. Seeing a small building that was obviously a storehouse, Legolas hoisted the man onto him further while making a dead line towards it.  
  
"I have an idea!" he said with a small smile.  
  
"Oh, this should be interesting," Aragorn muttered through clench teeth, the quick movement not doing anything to help his wounds or the spinning of his head.  
  
"It is going to be alright!" Legolas reassured him when they reached the door. Balancing Aragorn against the wall, he sent as much weight as he could into the locked door until it gave way. Grabbing Aragorn again, he pulled him into the small, dark room and kicked the door closed behind them.  
  
The room was only a few paces wide and twice as long and the walls were stacked high with crates, boxes and barrels. A distinct smell lingered in the air and with renewed hope, Legolas quickly identified it as what he was looking for - oil.  
  
Almost throwing Aragorn to the side, Legolas grabbed one of the large barrels that housed the flammable liquid. Half rolling, half dragging it out of the storehouse, he heard Aragorn's slight protests but the Elf effectively blocked them out, knowing that there was no other way to buy them any time.  
  
Dragging the barrel to the top of the stairs they had just ascended and just above where the Orcs were gathering their ranks, he plunged one of his long bow-knives into the top of the wood, splintering it and opening up a hole. Grabbing onto his pounding ribs to brace them, Legolas kicked the barrel over, letting it roll across the top step and the thick black liquid trickle out; covering the top few steps like the dark blanket of the night sky.  
  
So far he had been lucky enough to have not drawn any attention to himself as the Orcs were preoccupied with their own plans and seeing this, he turned and headed back to the storehouse, leaning heavily against the wall as he went.  
  
Creaking the door of the storehouse open, Legolas let his eyes adjust as he stepped into the gloom, "Aragorn, it is I," he said when he heard a faint rustle of cloth off to his right.  
  
"What are you doing?" Aragorn hissed out after realizing that it was the Elf.  
  
"Buying us some time," Legolas said while grabbing another of the barrels. "We have no other choice and you know as well as I that this is no place to hide." Looking around in the darkness, Legolas hunted for the other needed thing in order to carry out his plan. "Aragorn, can you see a torch?" he questioned quietly while still pulling the oil barrel towards the door.  
  
Moving his hands over the stone floor and then up the walls, Aragorn's fingers brushed against the cool steel of a wall mounted bracket. "Over here, above my head," he called out softly.  
  
Limping over, Legolas reached up and took hold of the carved wooden handle and pulled it from its brace. Feeling the top, he found it to be bound in cloth that was already dampened with the stickiness of oil. Nodding slightly to himself in contentment he leant against the stacked up crates and lowered himself down next to Aragorn.  
  
"I do not want you going out there, Legolas!" Aragorn commanded while looking into the Elf's pure blue eyes.  
  
Smiling and reaching forward, Legolas let his hand trail over the man's blood splattered cheek. "I will be alright - you should know that by now!" resting his head against Aragorn's forehead, he looked up and maintained eye contact, "I will be back in a moment, I promise."  
  
Moving his arm quickly, Aragorn hooked his right hand behind Legolas' head and pulled him down, sealing their lips for but a moment. Lightly pushing the stunned Elf back, he looked into his eyes and smiled, "hurry back, my prince."  
  
Smiling himself, Legolas leaned forward and pressed his lips quickly to Aragorn's once more, "I will!" Pulling himself to his feet, he grabbed the torch and a flint, tucked them under his arm and went over to the door. Peering around it, he could just make out the shapes of the Orcs still organizing their numbers down below, all still unheeding to their danger.  
  
Sending one last smile at the human, he grabbed hold of the cask and pulled it out of the room and towards the top steps. Splitting the top as he had done the last time, he then laid the flint and torch near his right foot and in easy reach.  
  
Taking a deep breath and readying himself, he once again pressed into his ribs, providing what little support to them he could, as he rose his foot and kicked the barrel down the steps.  
  
It almost seemed to bounce down as it went, gaining speed and force with each passing distance.  
  
By the third step from the top the Orcs had spun around, wondering what the crashing sound was and as they watched, the drum bounced closer and closer, its seams starting to split from the pressure of the hits against the stone. As it picked up speed and emptied its contents upon the steps, the pressure on the thin, slightly curved wood became too much and it exploded on the bottom step, showering the first of the Orcs with the thick substance.  
  
Smiling at the angered looks that the beasts' sent him, Legolas cast himself upon the ground and worked the flint stones against each other above the torch. Hearing the Orcs come racing up the steps, his heart beat quickened, making his hands shake and his palms sweaty. Angrily pushing a strand of hair away from his face, he knew that he had to catch the torch alight now or flee.  
  
Striking the stones one last time with all his might, a small blue spark flew from between the rocks as their edges ran opposite each other and caught on the oil covered cloth. Blowing lightly on the small flame, he lifted it from the ground and watched as the fire consumed the top of the wooden torch.  
  
Muttering a prayer to the Valar for thanks, Legolas pushed himself to his feet just as the first wave of the fell beast came upon him. Shoving the flaming stick into the first one's face, the creature cried out and stumbled back, the flame having caught on some of the oil that had splattered on it only moments before.  
  
Within seconds the beast was alight, the flames licking and jumping up its arms and body as it stumbled around, trying to flap the flames into submission. Slipping upon the mud slicked rock; it fell into one of its companions, setting them both ablaze and screaming as the fire slowly consumed their hides.  
  
Smiling with satisfaction, Legolas stepped closer to the stairs and, taking careful aim, threw the burning torch through the air, its red glow leaving a shimmering tail in its wake as it glided down to strike the destroyed casket. Catching fire immediately, the rest of the oil soaked wood creaked and stretched under the pressure of the flames until it could take no more, finally ending with a loud bang, parts of wood and binding steel flying up into the air high above their heads.  
  
Seeing that the trail of grease that had been released on the barrels fall was now alight, Legolas hurried over to the other cask that lay at the top of the stairs. Having only a second before the flaming tail reached him, the Elf pushed it with all his might, using the wall as a brace, and sent it rolling into the midst of the confused Orcs that had gained the top of the stairs.  
  
Throwing himself into a tumble turn towards the right, Legolas only just managed to avoid the trail of fire as it swept back the way that the barrel had originally rolled.  
  
As the moving barrel came in contact with the racing line of fire, it caught ablaze and ricocheted up into the air, spinning as it flew closer and closer towards the Orcs. Finally loosing momentum, it plummeted to the earth, right into the middle of the small group. As it hit the ground, it burst open, spilling more of the unused oil onto the Orcs and the area around them only to have the flames greedily lap at it and burn away at its surface.  
  
Pulling himself along the muddied ground, Legolas tried to keep as low as possible, avoiding the falling shrapnel that rained down about him. A large piece of flaming wood struck him across his lower back, tearing a cry from his sore throat as it burnt though the thin fabric of his tunic and cloak and blistered the skin underneath. Rolling quickly to his side, he let the hunk of wood fall before he rolled again, putting out the smoldering of his clothes and skin. Hissing as the burnt flesh pressed against the stone and mud oozed between the quickly forming blisters, he took a quick breather and looked behind him.  
  
Many of the small group of Orcs where alight, screeching and screaming in their pain as they ran about or threw themselves upon the ground to try and stop the burning. The ones down the bottom of the flight of stairs, as far as he could tell, were in much the same predicament from the other barrel that had exploded down there.  
  
Smiling once again and raising shakily to his feet, Legolas quickly stumbled in the direction of the storehouse, glad that he had at least taken out a few. There were thousands more waiting outside of the gates, but at least he had given them something to worry about and told them that they will not go down without a fight while also buying him and Aragorn time to get back towards the citadel.  
  
Fumbling with the door, he hurried in and straight over to Aragorn's position, not even warning the man that it was he. "Come on," he grunted out while assisting the badly wounded ranger to his feet.  
  
Seeing the way that Legolas' face was covered in soot and his clothes in mud, Aragorn automatically started to worry, and when his arm brushed past a large section of burnt cloth and heated skin, he stopped the Elf and turned panic stricken eyes on the prince.  
  
"What happened?" he demanded while leaning against the wall and turning Legolas around to look at his back. "Legolas! What happened to you?"  
  
"I am alright," Legolas brushed it off while tuning and grabbing the human by the arm and slinging the limb over his head, "Aragorn, we really have to go!"  
  
Supporting the ranger as he walked, he could feel Aragorn's gaze locked onto him, and, as they reached the door open, he offered the man a small smile.  
  
Reaching out to take the door handle, both were shocked when it was torn open from the outside revealing a flaming Orc. It fixed its piercing yellow eyes on the two friends, and identifying the Elf as the one that had done this to him, he stumbled towards them, its arms held outstretched as it offering a hug.  
  
Letting out a small gasp, Legolas pulled a wide-eyed Aragorn back and as far away from the beast as possible. Reaching behind him with his right hand, Legolas yanked out one of his long daggers, and, as the Orc approached and came closer, he stepped forward, plunged the blade into its stomach and pulled it up, making a deep, jagged cut as the blade lodged itself into the ribcage of the beast.  
  
Yanking at the knife, Legolas found it stuck in the beast's flesh. Screwing up his face in pain, he tightened his grip on the quickly heating handle and pulled again, and again. On his third try, the blade finally slipped free, causing both Aragorn and he to stumble backwards.  
  
The dying Orc made one last attempt at setting the two on fire by falling towards them as it died. Thinking quickly, Aragorn reached out and shoved one of the large crates that were stacked up about the room towards it, hitting it in the shins and causing it to double over the large box.  
  
Pushing Legolas to the right, they sidestepped the flaming carcass and once again made their way for the door.  
  
Bursting out into open, they were greeted with a wave of hot air, the stench of burning flesh and the noise of still screaming Orcs. Looking over their shoulders, Aragorn stared open mouthed at the destruction that Legolas had caused.  
  
"What did you do?" he asked, his disbelief clear in his voice.  
  
"Oh, nothing really," Legolas replied with a little smile as he helped his partner to walk on the slippery surface of the stones.  
  
"Nothing really?" Aragorn asked with a laugh, proud of the Elf's single handed accomplishments.  
  
"Oh, shut up and keep moving," Legolas joked as he pulled more of Aragorn's weight onto his tender shoulders while steering them in the direction of the citadel.  
  
*****  
  
"Alright, come on." Legolas urged while tightening his grip on the human that he had leaning up against him, Aragorn's arm over his shoulders. "We are almost there!"  
  
The Elf could see the burning fires of the front of the citadel up ahead and he only hoped that they would reach it before any of the Orcs overtook them, and that the people within had not already sealed the place up as a way of protection.  
  
As they got closer, he heard the sound of stone being slid across stone and his heart fell. Tightening his grip on Aragorn's waist, he started moving forward with renewed speed while yelling out as loud as he dared. "Stop! Wait for us!" he called and when he still heard the sound, he called a little louder. "STOP!"  
  
The grinding stopped and he saw a burning torch being lifted into the air to see who had called out. Someone cried out a name and immediately a number of fires came out of the building as people rushed towards the grateful Elf and his half conscious companion.  
  
The first man to reach them Legolas recognized almost immediately as the healer that he had threaten into aiding Gimli and, as the man slipped Aragorn's other arm over his shoulder, Legolas automatically regretted his past harsh words.  
  
Another man came up, and, pushing him gently out of the way and into another warrior, took Legolas' spot at Aragorn's other side, aiding the human in moving quicker.  
  
"Come on," the man that supported Legolas said while looping both his arms around the Elf and almost carrying him towards the light of the citadel. "We had feared you dead!" the man continued, obviously trying to keep Legolas awake and his mind off the pain and it took the Elf longer then it normally would have to recognize the voice.  
  
"Éomer?" he asked weakly, his last efforts having been put into calling out to stop the door.  
  
"Yes Legolas, it is I." the man said while tightening his grip and moving faster along as they were falling behind the others a considerable way. "You two are the last ones to get here that have been recently seen to be justly thought alive. We all thought that you had not made it from the gates as we were told that you two were the last done there, covering the other's retreat."  
  
"We almost did not," Legolas offered the man as an explanation for their lateness.  
  
"I gathered that," Éomer said softly while looking down at the blood, mud and soot covered Elf, "am I right in guessing that it was you who caused that explosion?"  
  
Nodding Legolas pressed his hand into his ribs as the man helped him walk. "It was the only thing to do - I needed to buy us time to flee back here - sorry."  
  
"There is nothing to be sorry for," Éomer said gently, "if anything, we owe you a great deal of gratitude for reducing their numbers. We truly did not think that you two would make it and it was only Gimli's threats that kept us from shutting the door long ago, I'm afraid."  
  
"He is alright?" Legolas asked, feeling better knowing that both of his friends were to be taken care of. At that point in time he did not even care that Éomer had not had the faith in them to help Gimli convince everyone to keep the gates open.  
  
"Yes, he is able to walk without assistance and he should be fine as long as the wound does not open again - the healer that you threatened did a good job!" Legolas nodded and whispering a small word of thanks as Éomer tried to quicken their pace once again, only to be stopped by a rather loud moan of pain coming from the Elven prince. "You, on the other hand," Éomer said a little worriedly, "will do good to have a nice long rest."  
  
Shaking his head, Legolas looked over his shoulder at the wall that could just be seen in the early morning gloom. "Nay," he said, "there is no rest now for they are inside our walls."  
  
"Worry not," Éomer tried to comfort the Elf as they finally crossed the threshold of the citadel to have the large, heavy doors pushed shut behind them as soon as they were out of harms way, "there are plenty of supplies in here to last us a few weeks, and by that time many of the men will be fit to fight again if the Orcs have not given up and left - you will have plenty of time to rest."  
  
Moving over towards the far wall, he escorted the prince to a bed that was a little better then most of the others and aided him in sitting down. Looking about him as Éomer busied himself by fiddling with the buckles of Legolas' quiver, Legolas saw that Aragorn had been put on the pallet beside him, for which he was thankful, and that the other one next to him was occupied by Gimli's helmet. Where the dwarf was he did not know, but it was a relief nonetheless.  
  
"Alright," Éomer said softly while inspecting Legolas' back and, finding a safe place to touch, he laid his hand on the Elf's wet shoulder and reached towards his legs with the other. "Let's get you lying down before you fall down!" Hooking his hands under Legolas knees, he half lifted the Elf up and placed him back down so that he was parallel to the bed and then eased the Elf's head onto a makeshift pillow of Éomer's own cloak. "There we go," Éomer said softly, "a healer will be here in a moment."  
  
Looking about the room again, Legolas was rather surprised at how bright it was in there considering that it was a cave. Eyes scouring everything, he also saw that there were not an overly large amount of torches burning to account for the light.  
  
Brow creasing in worry and confusion, the Elf continued to hunt the cave for a way to see how and where the light was coming from. There were no windows and other then the tightly sealed stone door, there was no other way in that he could see.  
  
Sighing and giving up, he allowed is head to fall back onto the pillow, grateful of the softness on his wounded back and the chance to be able to just stop. Eyes slowly rolling closed, a thick beam of light falling on a man off to his right caught his attention. Frowning, he followed the stream of light up to the ceiling to find what he had been looking for just a few moments ago.  
  
The top of the cave was dotted with holes, some small, others as big as a warriors shield and yet all open and unblocked. Their obvious purpose was to let air and light in, but to the Elf it also seemed to be a death trap.  
  
"Éomer?" he called out and after a few moments, the human came over to his bed to see what was wrong. The man looked down at the Elf, confusion in his eyes at the fact that Legolas seemed no worse off then when he had just left him thus leaving the question of what the Elf needed.  
  
Rising a hand and pointing towards the holes, Legolas shook his head at the man in a sign of dislike. "You must block those." He said, only to have Éomer shake his head in a no.  
  
"Nay, else we will have no air or light," the man said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Now rest, you will need your stre-"  
  
"Éomer," Legolas hissed while grabbing hold of the human's tunic and pulling him down towards him, "block them! Do you not see the trap that they make?"  
  
"No Orc is going to drop down through there, Legolas. Now, let us pretend that I am in charge here and let me do as is fit for my people!" pulling his tunic out of the Elf's grasp, he moved away with his back turned on the Elf, brushing his words off as that of a delusional person. "A healer will be with you soon." He said as finality to the conversation.  
  
Signing in frustration, Legolas turned his eyes to where Aragorn lay. He was surrounded by healers, each busily cleaning various wounds and for that Legolas was above appreciative. Even though the pains of his body were constantly playing upon his mind, he was just glad that Aragorn was being taken care of and that Gimli seemed well enough.  
  
*****  
  
Tbc. . .  
  
Ok, I am sorry, that was a really bad cut off point - I mean, no real cliffhangers but it just seemed untidy. I only did it as the next break was about 6 pages away and needed to actually be in the last chapter and the one before made the chapter too short. Anyway, no matter, I hope you enjoyed it anyway.  
  
And now for a little preview again!  
  
  
  
*** PREVIEW  
  
Turning to the closest man, which, unluckily enough for the man happened to be the same healer from last night, Legolas grabbed him by the scruff of the neck again and raised his voice over that of the flames. "Why in Valar's name are you not doing anything?" he shook the man for slight emphasis ere pushing him back into the crowd.  
  
Searching the faces, he could not see Éomer's anywhere and his distaste for the man only heightened. Turning back to Carson he moved forward so that he could easily be heard. "Go find Éomer!" he instructed and when the man made no move to go, he gave him a little encouraging push, "NOW!"  
  
Facing the rest of the people who seemed happy enough to scream and shout for assistance and yet not do anything, he grabbed at the closest one. "You!" he said, "you are now in charge here. I want these beds and pallets moved to the far corner, and water - we need water to try and douse the fire and to wash away the blood else the whole place will go up in flames. Do you understand?"  
  
The man nodded and started barking out the orders that he was just given and both were pleased when the gathered people obeyed without a thought or question. They were all just begging for a leader, for someone to come forth and tell them what to do so that they could at least feel as though they had a chance of surviving. . .  
  
***  
  
Hope you liked that little sneak peek and please review.  
  
Minka. 


	6. No One's Untouchable, part 3 Conclusio...

Hehe, you know that Orc in The Two Towers that is running along with the flaming torch and Legolas shoots him, like, twice, don't ya think that he reminds you of the Orcan version of Boromir?? He just won't fucking die!!! LOL  
  
Ok, I am over it! Well, here you go, the last chapter of this little story - get the tissues!!! Personally, I think it is kinda too corny, but then again, I am not one for the romance type of stuff, so it could just be me. But seriously, please review and tell me what you think.  
  
Here we go. . .are you ready?  
  
*****  
  
Dangerously in Love  
  
Chapter Six  
  
No One's Untouchable part 3  
  
The Conclusion  
  
  
  
*****  
  
This life well it's slipping right through my hands  
  
These days turned out nothing like I had planned  
  
Control well it's slipping right through my hands  
  
These days turned out nothing like I had planned  
  
  
  
"These Day's," Powder Finger  
  
*****  
  
From one of the further corners of the room, a man came over, a towel over his shoulder and Legolas automatically recognized him as the man the he had yelled at and had assisted Aragorn into the cave.  
  
"How you holding up?" the man asked, no resentment or hate in his voice at all. Nodding mutely, Legolas allowed the man to help him to the edge of the bed and sit up, his legs dangling over the side. "You can call me Carson," the man said when the Elf shot him an inquisitive glance, "I was the one that you threatened earlier!" he said with a small laugh at the embarrassed look on the Elf's face.  
  
"Sorry about that-" Legolas started only to be cut off when the man rose his hand to silence him.  
  
"'Tis alright, I understand," he said seriously, "and your friend is fine, he has been helping me out with some of the men."  
  
Looking up and catching the healers gaze, Legolas smiled and nodded his head, "thank you!"  
  
Offering his own nod, the healer sighed and started to pull the Elf's cloak off his shoulders. "Well then, let's get you fixed up now." At the look of obvious distaste that passed Legolas' face due to the thought of having someone worry about him while others where worse off, Carson dropped all his equipment on the side of the bed, crossed his arms, leant on is right leg and glared at the Elf. "Legolas, isn't it?" he asked and when the Elf confirmed his question, Carson went on. "Alright Legolas, it is your choice. We can do this one of two ways; the hard way - which your friend over there chose," he motioned to the now sleeping Aragorn, "which involves you being stubborn and not telling me where it hurts which will eventually lead to me pushing and prodding about and eventually causing you more pain. Or," he said with a large, friendly smile, "you can just tell me what hurts and I will do my best to fix it. Now it is up to you, but I do strongly suggest the latter of the options - from personal experience of course."  
  
Not being able to help the large smile that spread across his face, Legolas looked to the sleeping Aragorn and then back to Carson. "Only if you promise not to tell him that I took the easy way!" he said while motioning towards Aragorn.  
  
"I would never dream of it!" Carson said with a bow, "now, where does it hurt?" he asked, his mood once again serious and his mind back on the task at hand.  
  
"I suppose that 'everywhere' is not your preferred response?" Legolas joked and seeing the slight frown on Carson's face, he knew that it was not what the healer wanted to hear.  
  
"Nay, it is not," the man said grimly. Looking over the Elf, the first thing that he saw was the bound up hand. Reaching over, he took it gently in his hands and started to unbind it to gain a better look. "Now, tell me exactly."  
  
"Alright," Legolas sighed while biting his lip against the pain that even the slight treatment of his hand caused. "My hand has been crushed, as you can see. I think I have a few broken ribs and a number of burns to my back. My throat feels as if I ingested fire and it is causing problems breathing properly, but, other then that, I am fine."  
  
Gently prodding the crushed hand, Carson corrected him, "you forgot the wound to your cheek, the cut on your arm and the large wound to your back."  
  
"The cheek is only a scratch as is the one on my arm and the one on my back is days old," Legolas countered, wondering how the healer knew of the wound along his shoulder.  
  
"But they still need seeing to nonetheless," Carson said while laying Legolas' useless hand on the soft cloth. Taking hold of Legolas' chin he pushed it up, first inspecting the angry blue-green bruises that marred his pale skin and then the cut on his cheek. Following that he moved to the other side of the bed and, aiding the worn out prince, lifted up the tattered tunic and slipped it off the Elf's head. "This is bad," he said, referring to the blisters that covered his lower back, "and the shoulder wound is no better. How long has it been seeping blood for?"  
  
Legolas turned his head to try and see the wounds in question, but a sharp pain from his shoulder put a stop to such efforts and hissing slightly through his teeth he replied, "not that long - had a small encounter."  
  
"Well," Carson said while coming back around the bed and looking the Elf in the eyes, "you are definitely one to make the least out of serious situations."  
  
"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Legolas demanded somewhat testily. He liked Carson well enough for a human, but at the same time the man had a strange way of aggravating him and putting him on edge. He seemed the type that would be considered sneaky, and yet at the same time he was open for all to read like a book. Shaking his head clear of the strange and confusing thoughts, Legolas focused on listening to the healers reply.  
  
"It is meant to mean that you are in pretty bad shape, Legolas," the man said, sincerity in his voice which, for some reason, did more to create the Elf's split judgment on him. "I'll be right back," he said while moving off into the direction of the storeroom that branched off the main large chamber.  
  
For the first time that day, Legolas allowed himself to fully relax and to try to let the worries that had sat like heavy stones upon his shoulders slip away. The situation was far from being alright or even bearable, but at least they had some sort of protection for now - no matter how feeble it seemed in his eyes.  
  
Looking over to the pale, sleeping human, Legolas could not help but let his mind wander to all the unanswered questioned that had sprung in his head since that moment in the mud. What of Arwen? How long had the human felt this way and was it seriously what Legolas wanted? The Elf had never looked upon Aragorn as anything more then a fried all these years that they had known one another, and yet within the last hour or so, he had more then once made the move on the human. Yet was it truly due to his feelings or just the desperation of the situation that had made him act so, seeking whatever comfort and reassurance that he could?  
  
"Here, chew on these!" Carson's voice came unexpectedly to his ears and as Legolas turned his head, he saw the human was standing right next to him, his hand held out and offering him three small roots while a small basket was clasped in the other. Frowning at the fact that he had not heard the human approach, Legolas reached out a shaky right hand and took the three roots. Two he recognized - Yellow Dock which was a high source of iron and used greatly in the treatment of replenishing one of their lost strength and the other was a sprig of Comfrey used to help stop internal bleeding. The other, a small green stem was alien to him, and, not completely trusting the healer, he handed it back, showing that he would only take to other two.  
  
Smiling at the cautious Elf, Carson thrust the stem back at Legolas with a soft spoken explanation. "It is a human treatment - Solomon's Seal - thrives on the road side or in thick woodlands and is especially good with the mending of broken bones. It will do you no harm so I suggest that you take it."  
  
Casting another weary look at the offered root, Legolas sighed deeply and took it, plopping it into his mouth with the other three. He had heard Aragorn speak of such a plant a couple of times and the descriptions matched, so he took it, putting his faith in Aragorn more so then the healer.  
  
"Alright," Carson said while again taking Legolas' broken hand lightly in his, "this may be a little warm, but it will get through and relieve the pain." With that said, he picked up a small mortar with a thick green substance pounded in it and from where Legolas was sitting, the Elf could see the steam raising off the surface of the bowl. "This is just some Henbane and Witch Hazel," the healer explained as he want along, putting the Elf's mind at ease with his tactics. "The Henbane will remove a great amount of the pain and the other will make sure to stop any internal bleeding that may have occurred with so many small breaks."  
  
Applying the mixture, Legolas let out a small hiss as the heated paste came into contact with his already screaming flesh. The pain was not unbearable, but it was a great battle of wills to keep his hand from jerking away from the rubbing touch that made each finger cry out in protest.  
  
Once his hand was thickly covered in the green substance, Carson took a steaming cloth and wrapped it tightly around the Elf's hand, again pulling soft hisses from the prince's lips as he bound the hand so it could not move.  
  
"See," Carson said gently while reaching for another small bowl, "that was not too bad!"  
  
Offering the healer a small, un-encouraging smile, Legolas bowed his head, fighting the urge to inform him that it was not too good either.  
  
"Next," Carson said with a smile, "we shall see to these ribs. I will not do the same for them as I did your hand as it is to large an area, so we will just have to hope that Solomon's Seal can help us with that, but this will help the bruises."  
  
Placing his hand into the mortar, he scooped out a large amount of a light salve which Legolas automatically knew as being formed out of Myrtle, a plant that was plentiful in Mirkwood and known for its healing abilities and the beauty of its small, white flowers.  
  
As the healer rubbed it into his chest and the ugly, dark blotches against his pale skin, Legolas was pleased to find that the man was being a little more careful in the amount of pressure that he placed on the wound. As soon as he was done, the man turned his attention to Legolas' throat, and after an amount of inspection, settled for spreading some of the salve on the blue-green dotted skin as well.  
  
Moving around the small bed and climbing up onto the space behind the Elf, he gently pushed Legolas' head forward brushed the long hair away from his back. The large, open wound on his back was still bleeding profoundly, dripping in long, crimson streaks down his back and onto the waistband of his pants. The cut's jagged edges were peeled back, showing that it had been healing until the unfortunate run in with that large Orc where the thin layer of healed skin had been torn open, spilling forth more blood that now looked as if it would never stop.  
  
Pulling the basket back over to him, Carson sorted through the herbs that he had had prepared until he found a small pot of blended Sage and Oak. Both had been boiled not that long ago, forming a runny liquid out of the sap and the leaves adding texture to the mixture. Holding the pot just above the wound, he drizzled a small amount on, catching Legolas unawares and enticing a yelp of surprise from the Elf as the cool liquid trailed down through the open wound. Using a cloth to stop the running liquid before it moved onto the burns, Carson gently patted the open wound with the damp material, spreading as much of the substance on the large cut as he could. Within moments, he was able to see the bleeding slow and, after a little while longer, stop completely, the herbs helping in the clotting of the blood vessels near the tear.  
  
"I have stopped the bleeding so that a salve may be applied - does it sting?" Carson asked the Elf who shook his head in a no. "That is good, it means that it has worked properly," Carson explained his question as he reached for yet another mortar. "This contains a small amount of Calendula, Hyssop, comfrey and cornflower and will help speed up the healing process as well as stop any further un-induced bleeding." Nodding again, Legolas let the healer work, not having the strength or the heart to argue with him at the moment, plus, he was yet to pick up on any indication that the man was not telling the truth or was doing anything wrong. Carson seemed to be a great and practiced healer who knew what he was talking about, even if Legolas did not completely like the human's character.  
  
The process of spreading the salve onto the wound was one that Legolas was not looking forward to enduring any time again soon. Each stroke, no matter how gentle or feather-light, brought forth a searing pain that sent his entire body into small waves of shocked shivers and the feel of someone else grazing their hand through his open wound was one that he did not treasure above any other.  
  
"I will bind it soon," Carson said as he applied a small amount of the same cream to Legolas' cheek and arm ere cleaning his hands on a cloth before grabbing hold of another jar. "This is just some Slippery Elm and Comfrey with bees wax for the burns. It will stop any further blistering and help subdue the pain that these will cause later on."  
  
Not feeling the need to speak, Legolas just prepared himself for the painful sensation that he knew would come. The salve was cool to his heated skin, and almost immediately quenched the fire and the need that he felt to scratch at the blisters in order to stop the throbbing.  
  
After a short while, the majority of the pain from his wounded back was numbed, and, with a great amount of care, Carson bound up the Elf's entire midsection, keeping it tight for the benefit of the broken ribs and yet loose enough not to cause any of the blisters to rupture.  
  
Moving off the bed, Carson walked away without another word to the far side of the room. Returning a few moments later, he held a small hardened leather cup filled with a steaming liquid which he handed over to the Elf. "It will help with the sore throat that you said about." He offered as the Elf smelt it cautiously.  
  
"And put me to sleep," Legolas exclaimed while handing the cup back to the healer and shaking his head. "I do not need any Valerian to hinder my senses!"  
  
Sighing, the healer placed the cup on the side of the bed ad sat next to the Elf. "Legolas!" he stated firmly, used to dealing with somewhat unwilling patients. "Sleep will do you good at the moment. You need your rest to heal and so that you can help us get out of here - plus," he added a little more on a bright note, "the Gaurana will take away that dizziness that I knew you are suffering from and the Mullein and Bayberry will clear the pain from your throat before you even fall asleep."  
  
"And the Black Cohosh that I smelt?" Legolas questioned, turning hate filled eyes on the healer, "that is poisonous!"  
  
"It is good for circulation and replenishing the blood supply to the body and only deadly if used in large amounts." At the look of distrust that Legolas sent his way, Carson sighed again and lifted the cup to his own lips taking a large drink, and draining half of the contents. "See, it is fine - just a bit bitter," he complained about his own brew, "now drink it or I will force it down your throat before I fall asleep! Even your friend over there had some, and he is still alive as you can see."  
  
Finally giving in, Legolas snatched the cup and smelt the liquid again, pleased of his heightened senses. He could detect no more then what he had first found, and, seeing that the healer had taken some of it, decided to put his trust in the man. Lifting the cup to his lips, he drained the contents slowly while keeping his eyes on Carson.  
  
"See, it was not that hard," Carson said while taking the cup from him and standing. Grabbing the Elf's dirtied tunic, he saw that it was partially in tatters. "Stay here and I shall get you a new shirt."  
  
When he returned, he held a white undershirt and a green tunic, much like Legolas' own in his hands. Carson assisted the Elf in pulling the clothes over his head, allowing the Elf to lace up the front of the shirt while he laced the sides of the fitting tunic together.  
  
"There," he said with a smile at the finished product. It was quite remarkable how much cleaner Legolas looked already with just his wounds dressed and new clothes. Even though his face was still dirty and his hair covered in dried mud and blood, he was staring to look something like the Elven prince that he was and not just some warrior who had been crawling around in the mud. "In a few days, you will be as good as new!"  
  
"Thank you," Legolas muttered while settling down onto his side, feeling the strong sleeping drug starting to work already. Carson walked away, a smile on his face as he carried the rest of his equipment away from his latest patient and went onto the next.  
  
All around him people were running backwards and forwards or just lying down as he, and a number of times he was sure that he saw the blurred image of Gimli lending a hand and yet casting a worried look over in his direction.  
  
Looking to Aragorn, Legolas felt a strange shiver move up his spin. In his near delirious, drugged state, it seemed as if a dark cloud hung above the human's head, darkening all that it came into contact with and all that surrounded it. It seemed to whisper of ill tidings and news, things that should not be uttered even in the safety of ones house let alone in the midst of such a place of death and suffering that was overrun with evil.  
  
Rising from his bed, Legolas shot a better look at the human before turning his eyes on the people around him. A dark shadow seemed to linger over each and every one, whether they be asleep, standing or bleeding slowly to their sure death, each one carried their own personal shadow of death at their side.  
  
Moving carefully off the bed, the Elf reached over and took hold of the side of Aragorn's to stable himself. Shifting stiffly over to the bed, he turned around and sat down on the edge, looking at the sleeping face of the human. As he watched, it was almost like the shadow lifted at his presence and retreated into the land of darkness from whence it came.  
  
Aragorn seemed to be in pain, even in sleep, and the constant twitching of his eyes suggested that he was suffering a nightmare or some form of images that the Elves did not.  
  
Frowning, Legolas lay down on the straw next to the man and gently placed his head on Aragorn's rising chest. Tucking an arm around the human's waist and the other up near his neck, he buried his head further into the conscious man's chest.  
  
Happy with his position, he let his eyes wander up to Aragorn's face, and, biting his bottom lip, whispered, "if you die on me, I will never forgive you." Hiding his head once again, the Elf felt the human move unconsciously in his sleep and place an arm around his waist, drawing him closer.  
  
Smiling, the Elven prince allowed sleep to come to him, knowing that, even if fate took a turn for the worse, as least he was with someone who cared about him, even if he did not understand his own feelings.  
  
*****  
  
A shrill scream pierced Legolas' world of dreams, and, letting his eyes clear and adjust to the strange form of lighting in the room, he carefully pulled himself out of Aragorn's encircling arms.  
  
Already he could feel the strange tingling of his wounds healing, but at the same time he knew that they were far from being well and that he should not move too much. His ribs felt as if they had a life of their own, pulsing against his bruised skin like his heart beat in his chest, and his hand felt much the same as it hung limply by his side, the blood slowly traveling down to his crushed fingers. His back was in no better condition and his shoulder felt cramped up from the constant strain that he had applied to it the day past. His vision was slightly blurry and his head light and dazed due to the after effect of the sleeping drug that Carson had administered so even the slightest turn of his head sent the world into a spin around him.  
  
Casting caution and reason into the wind, he stood to his feet somewhat slowly and looked around him to try and work out what was happening.  
  
People were running everywhere, some with buckets and others supporting badly wounded warriors. A strong smell hung in the air, one that made Legolas feel queasy and ill as he quickly recognized it as the smell of burning straw and blood. Shouts of "Fire!" and "Help!" reverberated off the walls and rung in his ears, each cry seeming more desperate and pleading then the last one.  
  
Legolas stood there, next to Aragorn's bed trying to put two and two together through his foggy head and yet with no luck as more and more people ran this way and that. He was about to stop someone and ask of them what was happening when the answer almost struck him in the head.  
  
Something feel from above, the force of its fall disturbing the air enough to be brought to the prince's attention, and, looking down on the ground terrifying clarity came over him.  
  
Somehow, the Orcs had managed to get on top of the cave citadel and were dropping flaming torches through the holes in the ceiling, thus setting fire to the straw beds and the flammable blood that covered the floors.  
  
Stamping on the burning torch, he put it out completely before reaching over and shaking Aragorn, the Elf waited until his eyes were open and staring at him as if he were insane before turning and doing the same to the still sleeping Gimli.  
  
"Watch him!" Legolas instructed Gimli while pointing to Aragorn. At the nod of confirmation that Gimli gave, the Elf turned and moved as quickly as he could towards the corner with the most fire. Pushing his way through the crowed people, he came up to the front of the gathering only to be hit with a gush of hot air. Shielding his face from the dancing flames, he could see that the fire had consumed all of the straw that had been saved as a spare pile for later on in the siege and was rapidly spreading through the now empty beds and the little streams of dried blood.  
  
Turning to the closest man, which, unluckily enough for the man happened to be the same healer from last night, Legolas grabbed him by the scruff of the neck again and raised his voice over that of the flames. "Why in Valar's name are you not doing anything?" he shook Carson for slight emphasis ere pushing him back into the crowd.  
  
Searching the faces, he could not see Éomer's anywhere and his distaste for the man only heightened. Turning back to Carson he moved forward so that he could easily be heard. "Go find Éomer!" he instructed and when the man made no move to go, he gave him a little encouraging push, "NOW!"  
  
Facing the rest of the people who seemed happy enough to scream and shout for assistance and yet not do anything, he grabbed at the closest one. "You!" he said, "you are now in charge here. I want these beds and pallets moved to the far corner, and water - we need water to try and douse the fire and to wash away the blood else the whole place will go up in flames. Do you understand?"  
  
The man nodded and started barking out the orders that he was just given and both were pleased when the gathered people obeyed without a thought or question. They were all just begging for a leader, for someone to come forth and tell them what to do so that they could at least feel as though they had a chance of surviving.  
  
Seeing this, Legolas decided that it was best if he continued giving them things to do to keep them occupied. Pointing to another man, he called, "you, what's your name?"  
  
The man was young, no more then twenty years of age and he trembled when the angry looking Elf singled him out. Yet, being the warrior that he was, he bravely stepped forward, ready for a good shaking or something worse as Carson had received more then once from the same being. "Geoffrey, sir," he said hesitantly.  
  
Smiling down at the youth, Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him away from the fire. "Alright Geoffrey," he said calmly, "I need you to go around and muster as many men that are able to fight as possible."  
  
Not even giving his reply, the young man ran off and Legolas could see him though the crowd, checking on men and directing ones that were able bodied towards one corner. Looking behind him saw that the beds were still being moved and that a number of people were busily scrubbing the blood from the floor, Legolas turned around and headed back to his friends knowing that he could do on more there. There was still no sigh of Éomer, and Legolas could not help but think that maybe that was a good thing.  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn's worried voice came to him and the Elf looked up to see the man sitting on the edge of the bed. "What is going on?"  
  
Frowning and pushing the man back down, Legolas shot an angered look at Gimli who merely shrugged and rolled his eyes. "You should not be up!" the Elf stated casually while pushing the human back down as he once again tried to sit up.  
  
"But what happened?" Aragorn insisted while allowing the Elf to idly twist a lock of his hair.  
  
"Look up," Legolas instructed of both him and Gimli. Looking up himself, he could now see the shadows of the Orcs that moved about the top of the stone ceiling through the holes and even as they watched, another flaming piece of wood fell to land near all the others. "The holes are for ventilation and light," he explained at the horrified look on both his friends' faces, "but apparently these human's never thought of the possibility of the enemy dropping anything from above. Somehow the Orc's have found their way above and they have been throwing torches down on us. The straw storage seems to be their target at the moment, and I have people working on it, but the beds and blood - it is spreading," he added with a sigh. "The beds around are catching from the intense heat and the very floor itself is alight."  
  
It was then that Éomer came into his view at the furthest end of the great citadel, and, patting Aragorn's shoulder and telling them both to stay put, Legolas moved off through the crowd, keeping an eye on the man.  
  
"Éomer!" he called as he came within hearing distance. "Where have you been?" The human looked as if he had aged over night; his face was a deathly shade of grey and his eyes rimmed in darkness. His hair fell about his shoulders, wispy and crumpled and his eyes seemed to stare into space.  
  
"Éomer?" Legolas once again called while standing next to the man, finally gaining his attention.  
  
"Legolas?" the man asked softly, while looking about as if he knew not where he was. Seeing the Elf, his eyes seemed to clear as if he were remembering all that had happened and his face quickly changed from disorientation to realization. "You were right," he said, his tone defeated as he admitted his blunder and fault, casting his pride aside once again in the face of the Elf. "You were right - we should have done something about the holes."  
  
"That does not matter now," Legolas said quietly, "but what you do now does - this is what will count."  
  
"Sir?" a voice inquired, causing both to turn. Éomer looked down at the young man known as Geoffrey ready to answer any of his questioned only to have the man turn to Legolas and continue speaking. "Sir, I have gathered at least twenty. They are over waiting near the door, all armed and ready, and Alan, the one that you put in charge of the fire break, says that it does not look good. They have cleared the floor, but the enclosed space just means that no matter how far away the straw is, it is still catching. Also, another fire has come up at the opposite end of the hall. Carson thinks the Orc's know that we are trying to put it out so that they are going to spread it so that we have no chance."  
  
Sighing at the bad news, Legolas gently rubbed his temples, feeling a pounding in his head from the heat and the stress that he had been putting on his wounds. "Thank you, Geoffrey," he said softly while casting his gaze over the panicked room. He could still see Aragorn and Gimli sitting in the middle of the room, their eyes on him, and at his actions he could see Aragorn's worry. Sending him a reassuring smile, he went to turn his gaze back to Éomer only to find that Geoffrey was looking at him intensively.  
  
"Yes?" the Elf questioned.  
  
"What now, sir?" Geoffrey asked Legolas while not even paying attention to Éomer.  
  
Thinking as quickly as his sore head would allow him, he looked about the room, searching for anything to send the young man off to do. "Gather as many people as you can to see to the smaller fires," he said slowly, trying to think of the best possible thing to do, "and then try to pre-clear a good area of all straw, blood and anything flammable so we can move the most severely wounded there."  
  
"Yes sir!" the boy said almost excitedly while offering a small salute while he ran off, shouting orders left, right and center.  
  
"Well," Éomer said with a hint of jealousy, "you seem to have everything under control."  
  
Looking about the room to make himself look busy due to his discomfort as to where this conversation was going, Legolas replied casually, "it is far from under control, but they needed something to do to keep their minds off the threat at hand."  
  
"And they seem all too eager to listen to you," Éomer pointed out, his tone slightly malicious.  
  
Legolas turned around and glared at the man, his past unease pushed aside by slight anger. "I will not pretend to know what you meant by that but you were nowhere to be found and someone needed to give them an order. They need it, need to be told what to do so that they feel as if there is hope. Whether it be me, you or anyone of the smarter warriors here they would listen for the sole hope of being able to save themselves - they are even listening to that boy that you just saw, that is how much they need someone stable of mind to take charge."  
  
Nodding slightly and holding his tongue Éomer looked about the room, seeing that people were clearing a large section of the far wall and slowly moving the wounded in just as the Elven prince had suggested. More people were throwing water and hitting the smaller flames with blankets while others scrubbed at the floors to remove the blood. Over by the door he could see a handful of his better warriors waiting, fully armed and covered head to toe with armor, obviously the ones that Geoffrey had spoken of.  
  
"Aright, let me into the mind of a stable person and tell me what you are planning." Éomer gave in with a sigh, seeing that he could not match what the Elf had down and that, as much as he thought and tried, he could not see anything else that needed to be instructed.  
  
"It does not look good," Legolas said truthfully, "as I just said, they are mainly doing this to keep their minds off the inevitable. The Orcs are not trying to smoke us out, they just want us dead else they would have covered the holes by now and with the condition of this place, it will not be long before the fires are out of our control. As Geoffrey said, they are spreading and there is nothing that we can do. I have ordered a group of the lesser injured warriors to aid me in an attempt a go at the Orcs above but that is really just a suicide mission and I think that they know that. If anything it may buy us sometime to get most of the people out, but where to go after that I do not know."  
  
A long pause followed as both just stood there and watched the panicked people run back and forth, shouting and, as time went on, coughing and spluttering on the smoke that was starting to hand in the room.  
  
Turning to the Elf, Éomer placed a hand on his shoulder and waited until Legolas made eye contact. "You have done well,' he said assumingly, "better then I ever could have and, as far as I can see, our best bet is to take the warriors up and try to at least buy as some times - as you said."  
  
Nodding, Legolas turned towards where he had left his weapons near Aragorn's bed and yet Éomer's hand on his shoulder stop him once again. "You are not going," the man told him causing Legolas to narrow his eyes at the feeling of déjà vu. "You look as if you are about to fall over," Éomer tried to douse the fire that had sprung up in Legolas' eyes, "and the men down here need you. I will go up, you stay here incase there is a chance to get everyone out. This is not you and your friends' fight so if there is an opening, I want you to take it and flee to the far of the Deep. There is an old weaponry and storehouse there that will offer you some form of shelter until the Orcs leave. Consider that as one of my final orders!"  
  
Concurring with a slight bow, Legolas moved away from the human and back towards Aragorn and Gimli. Sitting down next to Aragorn with a sigh, he lent his head on his long time friend's shoulder and allowed the man to loop an arm around his waist, pulling him closer.  
  
"What happened? Gimli asked, casting the two an inquisitive look. He had known that they were close, but never thought that they were that close.  
  
"Éomer is going to lead the group of men that I have standing over at the door in a last attempt to destroy the Orcs."  
  
"And you are not going!" Aragorn said pointedly while hugging the Elf further into his arms.  
  
"He already made that perfectly clear," Legolas mumbled. "We are to stay here and help keep everyone under control and lead them out if there is an opening in the Orcs defenses. There is an old shed up further in the Deep that we can retreat to if need be."  
  
"Sir?" Geoffrey's voice cut into Legolas' conversation again. At the formal title, Aragorn sent a questioning look at Gimli and when he was met with mirrored ignorance, he looked to Legolas who merely rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yes Geoffrey," Legolas asked with another great sigh.  
  
"We have done as you asked," the man told him, obviously proud of himself, "a large section is cleared and we stocked it with the food supplies as well, so," he said rather dramatically, "if you and your friends would like to follow me, we shall move you in first."  
  
"See to the badly wounded first," Legolas muttered, his eyelids getting heavy as he felt sleep once again coming over him.  
  
"Uh," the young man said, "You three do appear to be the badly wounded," he pointed out with a sad, little smile.  
  
Looking down at himself, Legolas was rather shocked at just how dead he did look. His mid section was bound tightly with bandages that were now soiled and covered with blood. The red substance had slowly started to bloom against his new tunic and shirt, forming deep blotches on the material while his pants were dirtied with mud and blood - both his and that of his victims. A number of smaller bandages covered his arms and hand and, with a quick glance, he saw that Aragorn looked no better, if anything he looked worse and Gimli was pale and his own dressings plastered with dried and fresh blood alike.  
  
Smiling at his two friends, Legolas looked up to the young man, "nay, get the others in first, we shall be fine here for now."  
  
Nodding somewhat disappointedly, Geoffrey hurried off to see to the others, often casting worried glanced back at the three that just sat there, waiting for the unknown.  
  
A shout from above was the first warning of Éomer's attack and with a sinking heart, Legolas realize that he had not even said a final farewell to the human, no matter how much he hated him. The sound of clashing steel and the cries of the dying from above was all that the people fighting the fire below could use as a source of information as to what was happening above.  
  
Sliding off the bed and out of the now complaining Aragorn's grasp, the Elf made his weary way over towards the worst area of the fire. Carson was there, his healing abilities switched for ones of firefighting, as was Alan, the man that he had put in charge of the fire breaks.  
  
Turning on the spot and letting his ice blue eyes trail over all, he saw the already desperate situation getting worse. The fire was everywhere, even catching on the straw at the other side of the room, sparks flying and the heat slowly rising to the point of that which even the Elf could feel. The area cleared for the wounded was getting smaller and smaller, the flames leaping about the cleared borders to the point of, within a few minutes, those within would be trapped behind a wall of flame.  
  
Feeling both Carson and Alan turn their questioning eyes on him, Legolas let his eyes fall on them. Offering them a sad smile, he drew in a deep breath and looked towards the door. "We have to get everyone out." He said the words calmly and bluntly, expressing two emotions that he most certainly did not feel. "There is no stopping the flames, we must flee or burn."  
  
Both men nodded their agreement, putting the apprehensive Elf a little more at ease. "That is wise," Carson said slowly, and, with a shout, he let the Elf's orders travel over the room. A cry went up, each person to hear the command passing it on to the next that was not in earshot and within a few moments all were on their feet, either dragging themselves or a friend towards the great doors.  
  
Reaching out and grabbing hold of Carson's sleeve, Legolas pulled the man close and, with fear in his eyes, said, "please, get my friends out. I will try and get some of the weapons so we may at least have a chance, but get Aragorn and Gimli out."  
  
Grasping the Elf's own shoulder, Carson nodded his head, and, with a small smile, went running off in the direction of where Legolas had left the two remaining members of the fellowship.  
  
Alan was already assisting people in getting out, and, looking around, Legolas saw Geoffrey and three other men slowly making their way to the door. Limping over to them, his wounds causing him more pain then he wanted to let on, Legolas stopped the men with a small smile.  
  
"I would like to ask for your help," you said, "you do not have to acce-"  
  
"What do you want us to do?" Geoffrey asked, showing his faith and trust in the Elf.  
  
"We need to get some of the weapons that have been left behind so that we may at least be able to make a stand outside. Are you up to it?"  
  
"Of course!" Geoffrey stated while looking back at the other men who nodded their heads. Raising an eyebrow, Legolas turned and slowly lead them towards the area that most of the swords and daggers had been piled. A sudden arm around his waist made him gasp, thinking that it was Aragorn, but, looking to the right, he saw that it was Geoffrey, offering him the support in walking that the Elf would never admit to needing.  
  
By the time that they made it through the jumping flame and to the stockpile of weapons, the citadel had been cleared of the all save the five. Filling their arm's with as much as they could all carry; they turned and made their way back as quickly as possible, Geoffrey still helping the Elven prince.  
  
As they were halfway across the fire covered room, a strange scream filled Legolas' pointed ears, and, oddly enough, it seemed to get louder. Looking up, he was met with a horrible, sight, and, acting quickly, he only just managed to throw himself and Geoffrey to the side and ground in time to dodge the falling body of a dying Éomer.  
  
The human hit the stone hard, his scream being cut off mid breath and his eyes frozen open in a shocked expression. Gasping, Legolas half crawled over on his knees and elbows, careful of the flame that leapt all about him. Pushing his right hand into Éomer's throat, he felt no pulse. Time seemed to stand still as he relentlessly moved his hand about the man's neck, trying to find any pulsating that would tell him of his survival.  
  
Finally, the saddening realization of knowing that he could do naught for the human washed over him, and, summoning his strength and will, Legolas looked over his shoulder at the handful of human's that still remained in the dangerous area, waiting for his command.  
  
"Fall out!" he shouted, "get out!" It was an order that he did not want to give, he did not want to sentence them into facing the Orcs but, at the same time they could not stay in here. The fire was out of control, the oxygen all but spent as it feed the greedy flames and the danger of the Orc's still held true even in this so called refuge.  
  
"Get out!" he yelled once again, and allowing Geoffrey to aid him in standing to his feet, lead them out of the burning citadel and to the others that were crowed into the mud covered ravine.  
  
Parting from the young man, Legolas searched through the crowd, looking for Aragorn and Gimli. A sickening panic rose inside of him when neither dwarf nor ranger could be seen, and, taking to his last option, he started to call out for them as he walked.  
  
A hand grasping his shoulder from behind made the Elf whirl around, his right fist balled and flying through the air, stopping only moments before contact after having recognized the man. "Carson!" Legolas stated at the relieved look in the man's eyes when he realized that the fist was not going to continue its journey to his face.  
  
The man just smiled fondly at the Elf, a strange glint in his eyes that Legolas could not quite identify. "In the Deep," the healer informed him while turning Legolas around by his shoulders and leading him along. "In the Deep there is a storehouse - Éomer told you of it, I believe. I have taken Aragorn and Gimli there - it was Éomer's last order, to get you three out of this." Pushing the Elf along quicker, the man continued to explain his actions. "When you sent everyone out, Aragorn almost collapsed, he had lost far too much blood. . .I-I don't think that there is much that I can do for him." Pressing a small bag into the stunned Elf's right hand, he grasped Legolas' shoulders and looked the Elf right in the eyes. "Try, there may still be hope. When you get up there, barricade the door. Do not let anyone in or open it for anything. There should be plenty of supplies in there for you three to use for as long as need be. Now go!"  
  
Gently pushing the Elf away from him, Legolas found that all he could do was stare at the human that he had not fully liked or trusted. "Why?" the prince breathed out, and, as the man stepped close to him and caressed his un-wounded cheek, he fought back the urge to dispel the strange touch.  
  
"I have never met an Elf before," Carson said in all seriousness, his smile reaching even his eyes, "and I am glad that the one that I met was you!" Not knowing what to say, Legolas just smiled back, completely stunned by the man's actions towards him. "Now go!" the healer commanded while giving Legolas an encouraging push in the right direction.  
  
"You could-" Legolas stated, not really wanting to leave the human behind to certain death.  
  
"Nay!" Carson replied, catching Legolas' drift, "I am going to stay with my people, and you must go to your friends." Nodding slightly, Legolas finally worked up the courage to turn his back, leaving the human's that the had fought and almost died for behind as he made his way as hastily as possible up the ravine, using the side of the rock wall for his support.  
  
*****  
  
Banging on the door and calling out for both of his friends, it was only a moment before the door was pulled partly open and a hand wrapped around his hand, hauling him inside the small storehouse. Looking down, he saw that it was Gimli, who, once the Elf was inside, was quickly piling up boxes and crates against the door as a way of reinforcement.  
  
Seeing that the dwarf had it all under control, Legolas let his eyes adjust to the gloom while searching for Aragorn. Spotting him lying propped up against the far wall, Legolas squeezed the small bag in his hands and hurried over to him, hope sailing highly in his heart.  
  
Aragorn's eyes were closed, his skin the colour of pale cream - completely unnatural for him, and, one look at the blood flowing down the Ranger's side was enough to sink the small boat of hope within the Elf.  
  
Keening down next to the human, Legolas let his good hand trail lightly over the man's cold face, fear biting at his heart when Aragorn did not respond. "Aragorn?" he whispered, his voice quivering on even that one word. "Aragorn?" it was a little more desperate now, more pleading then the first.  
  
Looking at the unmoving human, Legolas found himself forgetting everything. For the first time in that dreadful night, he did not think of the Orcs massing just down the Deep, or of the human's that where doomed to die, of his own pain or that of his friends just as he no longer sort to question what he felt for the human. He did not care of Arwen, or what Aragorn's feelings towards him really meant for the three of them - especially the one who had given up her immortality for the man. All he cared about, all that he could think upon, was the horrible, sinking feeling in his heart that came about at the thought of Aragorn passing and leaving him here.  
  
Moving closer to the man, he placed his pointed ear next to the human's mouth, and, when he felt the faint tickle of breath against the sensitive spot, he almost cried for joy.  
  
"Aragorn!" he stated firmly while sitting down next to the human. "Aragorn, open your eyes!" he commanded as he pulled the human into his lap so he could cradle the man's head against his chest and in the crook of his arm. "Aragorn!"  
  
He felt a slight stir in the human that he held, and, slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, Aragorn opened his eyes, locking the storm-grey orbs onto Legolas' sparkling blue.  
  
Letting out a small, relieved chuckle, Legolas pressed a quick kiss to the man's forehead before brushing the sweat drenched hair from Aragorn's brow and eyes.  
  
"Legolas?" the man asked, knowing that it was the Elf, but just needing to make sure that his eyes did not deceive him.  
  
Smiling brightly, Legolas nodded his head and let his hand caress the man's cheek once again. "Yes, it is I," he told the human reassuringly, "and I have some things that may help you-" his voice trailed off slightly at the prospect of the herbs not being able to aid his friend.  
  
Reaching over to open the small bag, he found it getting taken out of his hand by Aragorn, the human's gaze locked onto his. Replacing the bag with his hand, Aragorn looked up at the Elf that lent over him, looking like an angel even through the blood and mud. "Legolas, I have to-"  
  
"No!" the Elf said gently, "there is to be none that! Now give me that bag and let me see what I can do!"  
  
Reaching his other hand up to the Elf's face, Aragorn shook his head, knowing that it was almost over and that there was still more that he wanted to say. "Legolas, I love you, I always have," he said, unheeding of the shocked and slightly embarrassed look upon the Elf's face at his confession. Never had Legolas thought that Aragorn would ever feel such a way, even in the last few hours. "I am sorry that I never told you, but you where not ready. . ."  
  
"Arag -" Legolas went to interrupt, not really knowing why but feeling that he should.  
  
"You still are not ready." At the soft frown that formed on the Elf's brow, Aragorn quietly explained his words, "I see it, you are confused, even a little frightened. You are not ready for this."  
  
Even his eyes could not portray the confusion that Legolas felt as Aragorn spoke, gripping his hand tightly within his. Such a confession of love he had never expected, not from anyone, and, if anything, he had always never really wanted one, preferring the life of a warrior then that of some settled prince. Yet, when Aragorn said such words from his heart, Legolas' past resolve seemed to ebb away, long forsaken while the human stared into his eyes.  
  
Smiling at the human, Legolas sensed Gimli's shock from the other side of the room where he had stopped blocking the door at the hushed words that he never thought he would witness. Ignoring his dwarven friend, Legolas merely cupped Aragorn's cheek and whispered, "I am ready," and, with a slightly sly smile, leaned down and sealed their lips in a kiss.  
  
Both Elf and man poured all their passion and love into that one kiss, treating it as if it were their last. A slight sigh escaped Aragorn, and, dropping his hand from Legolas' face, he invested his concentration solely in the kiss.  
  
Smiling against the human's lips, Legolas broke the contact, lifting his head so that they could both draw the much needed air. Looking down, he saw Aragorn laying in his arms, his eyes closed and a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.  
  
Moving his hand to Aragorn's side to pull the human further into his grasp, his arm brushed against the man's still chest.  
  
Freezing in horror, Legolas pressed his hand over the man's heart, telling himself that he was imagining things, and yet, after a few minutes and a haunting stillness where there should have been a rhythmic pumping, Legolas knew that he was not. Sucking in shallow breaths, each time feeling as if not enough air had reached his starving lungs, Legolas frantically started to shake the human, praying to wake him up like he had done before.  
  
Gimli, who had quickly tired of his strenuous work and had eventually taken a seat, his wound reopened and bleeding freely down his side, looked up from the floor that he had been staring at, not wanting it intrude on the Elf and man.  
  
As soon as he saw Legolas' face and the limp body of Aragorn, he knew. Wanting to move to the Elf's side to console him, Gimli battled with his own disbelief that had surfaced, freezing him to the spot and making all forms of movement impossible. Being forced to only sit there, he looked on as the Elf fretted, silver tears running down his face which matched Gimli's own.  
  
"No," Legolas whispered, the word no more that an exhale of breath. Aragorn could not be dead, not like that, not so uneventful. Seldom had he seen death in human's, or even his people for that matter, and yet he felt as if there should be more, that the man could not have passed in such a way - so quietly, so unseen.  
  
Feeling the strange sensation of tears forming in his eyes, he could not even attempt to try and hold them back, to act strongly as his friend, companion and would be lover lay dead in his arms, his face reflecting pure bliss.  
  
Rocking back and forth, the human clasped tightly to his chest, Legolas let his tears fall onto the man's face, his hiccupping breaths shake the body that he gripped and his good hand clench the fabric of the man's tunic between his fingers.  
  
He could not imagine life without the man, even before his confession, he could not think of going through the world without him as a friend. It seemed impossible, impossible that the king of men could die, that he could slip from the world without even the one that held him knowing. He hated himself, for not noticing, for causing the man to get distracted and even for kissing him. If he had not, there was a chance that the man would still be alive, that he would still be fighting the black robed figure that called his name into the dark night.  
  
All hope was now truly lost, never would the lands of Men rise above the dark powers without their king to lead them, never would the Elves stay on these shores without that all important tie between the two races of Middle- earth. Aragorn was their hope, his Elven name even spoke of it; Estel.  
  
As if Fate had seen fit to prove her point, the sound of a battering ram hitting against the door filled the room. The already flickering light from the fires burning outside danced even more as the planks of the door shook under the pressure and stress that it was withstanding, while dust and dirt fell from the wood in clouds at every beat. The boxes that Gimli had piled up where getting steadily pushed back along the floor, each hit aiding in the rebounding of the barricade.  
  
Turning red rimmed eyes to his wounded friend, Legolas saw in Gimli's eyes that he too saw no way out of this. Looking to his quiver which the dwarf must have brought up for him, the gaping darkness of the container seemed to mock them, telling them of their demise and the fact that they were doomed. Only having one of his daggers, Legolas knew that he was in no condition to fight just as Gimli was now unable to stand.  
  
As the pounding upon the door increased, Legolas pulled Aragorn's body to him closer and turned his gaze to Gimli once again. Even as the doors flew open and the flames from outside highlighted the shapes of the Orcs in the entrance, the friends did not look up. Not even when the sound of heavy footsteps falling upon the wooden floor came towards them; or when the sounds became a cacophony and the smells became suffocating.  
  
They held each others gaze just as Legolas gripped the man that he loved to his chest, even when Legolas felt two hands gripping at either side of his head. Making the effort to smile at the only dwarf that he would ever call his friend and pulling the lost hope of men further into his arms, Legolas' world was plunged into darkness with a mere flick of a beast's wrists, his head falling limply down to rest against that of Aragorn.  
  
*****  
  
Can you feel me?  
  
Slipping slowly from your reach.  
  
You hear me?  
  
When I have lost the will to speak.  
  
I'll see you,  
  
I'll see you as you slowly fade away. . .  
  
  
  
'Crash Palace.'  
  
*****  
  
The End.  
  
*****  
  
*Runs off and changes her name, address, phone number and moves country.* Hope you liked, and please review. *hides behind Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan muse's - either using them as body guards or human shields - is not really sure herself!*  
  
A very big thank you to all of you have been with me from the beginning of this story, or even more, from the beginning of when I first started to attempt writing!  
  
Please don't kill me too much, I mean, it was too good an idea to pass up on!  
  
Minka  
  
"We are all just prisoners here, of our own device." 


End file.
